Puzzle Pieces
by Emory Lee
Summary: A troublesome week in which Snape realizes there's something more to his relationship with Potter than he first thought. HP/SS
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: All places and characters belong to JK Rowling and various publishers. No money is being made off this piece of fiction._

_Warnings: This story is slash, HP/SS. Rated M, more for violence than any sexually explicit content._

_Author Note: If you've been around for several years, you might have seen this fic before. I pulled all of my stuff for various reasons then college and other RL stuff interfered with putting it up elsewhere. So I'm back. This fic definitely detours from canon by book 5. There are currently 7 chapters finished and edited, updates should be on a weekly basis. I originally started this fic for the Dusk til Dawn fest and it was based on this challenge: "Harry gets arrested for soliciting in Hogsmeade. Snape has to pay his bail._

_Enjoy!_

**PART 1**

He detested shopping.

Detested it with an intensity usually reserved for Gryffindor students and their aggravating Head of House.

It wasn't the usual things about shopping that set his teeth on edge. Not the lines or the crowds, nor the occasional squalling brat that grated across his ears like the screams of Voldemort's victims. Nor was it the occasional return trip, necessitated by the fact that he'd forgotten the unicorn hoof he'd went out for in the first place.

No, those were the usual problems everyone was dealt in life, and Severus had long since ceased to get angry over such minutia. His energy was better wasted on other endeavors, like scaring students.

What bothered Severus, what truly annoyed him, were the stares. The eyes that dismissed him on first glance only to suddenly dart back, wide with realization as their puny brains kicked into gear. It was the conversations that stopped mid-word and the silences that fell on entire rooms the moment he walked in. Then it was the press of bodies as people crowded around, trying to talk to him or touch him, trying to get some part of him, cause 'Hey, he's one of the Three Great Wizards That Killed You-Know-Who' and being close to greatness is as addictive as being great. They'd crowd around him like flies over a dead body, never quite going away, no matter what he snarled or snapped. The only thing that was worse was if they were reporters, then they'd follow him as he tried to escape, nipping at his heels and yelping questions.

Ugh. It was almost enough to make him pity Potter.

Almost.

* * *

The Dark Lord died at Christmas, exactly three short months ago. One would think that the wizarding world would have gotten over that novel occurrence and moved on to something else, but the fanatic attention hadn't died down, much to Severus's disappointment. And despite his desire to do otherwise, he couldn't hide in Hogwarts forever. He needed to make trips into town, buy stuff, have a life - and despite idiotic student notions to the contrary, he did not consider isolation in the dungeons to be any sort of life.

So Severus solved his celebrity problem like the Slytherin he was.

He began wearing facial charms, changing to a different combination each time he went out. Today's pick was shaggy brown hair, light green eyes and a healthy tan, combined with a slight rearranging of his facial structure. The nose tended to give him away otherwise. No one had given him a second glance, not even the group of sixth year students he passed on the main street in Hogsmeade. The girls were examining some recently purchased books on love charms. He made a mental note to confiscate them when he returned to the school. They'd been forbidden at Hogwarts after Potter had been subjected to five of them in one week.

Sadly, his foray into the wilds of Hogsmeade wasn't for the joy of spying on students, but business in the town's less known apothecary. This store was small, strategically located on one ill-used side street. Most of its business dealt with the rarer potions, leaving the everyday business to the larger apothecary on the other side of town.

"Be with you in a minute," a cheerful voice called as he pushed open the old door of the store. Severus squinted through the dingy light and nodded at the teenage witch behind the counter, who was in the middle of weighing out ingredients. She grinned at his nod and turned back to her customer, a pre-adolescent boy. Severus began to turn away, then paused; something about the boy catching his attention. There was something suspicious about him, like he was up to something. The boy fidgeted with the bag in his hands, then a bottle on the counter, his eyes darting about the store in a nervous dance when the clerk wasn't looking at him. He caught Severus watching and quickly looked away, head ducking down and shoulders hunching, trying to make himself smaller, less noticeable.

Teacher instinct pricked, Severus moved a few steps closer to see what he was buying. There were roughly twenty ingredients spread across the counter top and, after a few seconds of mentally shuffling them around, Severus realized they were the ingredients to an aging potion. In fact, it was an incredibly potent goblin aging potion, one that was illegal to sell to human minors. It was renowned for the nasty side effect of reacting with adolescent bodies in such a way as to make reversal impossible. If the brat turned himself into a sixty-year old man, he was guaranteed a significantly shorter lifespan.

Stupid idiotic child. He was probably there on some older brother's command, a brother who wanted to look older to get in a bar, or impress a girl, or some other such nonsense.

It was tempting, but Severus didn't bother with the joy of confronting the boy. Nor did he confront the clerk for her stupidity. He had something better in mind. He quietly made his way to the back of the store where the owner's private workrooms were located, not bothering to consider whether Lucas was in or not. Lucas always worked on Friday afternoons, and the day that Lucas changed his routine was the day that Severus attended his funeral.

Lucas was considered strange, even by wizarding standards. He was the descendant of an insane, but brilliant, potions master who had focused his work on the longevity of house elves. The results of his work were several, thankfully now lost, potions mixed with house elf blood that he used on his children. People in Lucas's family were not only long lived, they had a propensity towards being workaholics and a near obsessive need to take care of people around them. Lucas was gruffer and meaner than most of them, but house elfish behavior sometimes reared its head at the oddest times.

Rather than knock, Severus tapped his wand against the ornate handle on the lab door, knowing that the spells would recognize his wand. The wards collapsed with a hiss, leaving the air scented with cinnamon. He nearly smiled, remembering the first time he had entered this lab.

It had been a dreary Hogsmeade weekend, the kind where the rain seemed to fall from the sky in a persistent bid to soak him to the bone. Mix in the marauders and miserable was pretty much the status quo for the day. So, as he'd done a dozen times before, Severus had wandered into Lucas's store with the intention of hiding in the book section and attempting to absorb as much as he could on potion making. Potions made sense in a world that didn't always function on logic and order. He had long since gutted the Hogwarts library and was starved for more.

Apparently it was a hunger Lucas had noticed. On that fall day, the old man left his lab door open, knowing the activity of a professional lab would draw Severus in. Lucas had let him lurk in the shadows for a good four hours, allowing Severus to watch as he made the standard potions that the apothecary sold. It was a test, to see just how serious Severus was. And after he'd stayed well past lunch, his teenage stomach growling loud enough for even Lucas to hear, the old potions master began quietly speaking, explaining a 'special order' potion that was sold under the counter.

On that informative day, Lucas's labs became Severus's permanent weekend destination, and Lucas expanded his knowledge into areas that Hogwarts teachers had never dared touch.

The sound of glass clinging behind the door's warped wood brought Severus's attention back to the present. He pushed aside the memories and silently opened the heavy oak door.

Dressed in muggle clothes, Lucas was leaning over a boiling cauldron, his waist long grey hair kept out of the way in a practical braid. With barely a glance, his potion-stained fingers dipped into an open jar and added a pinch of dragon bone powder to a vicious orange potion. Lifting a copper spoon, Lucas carefully stirred it and the liquid flared a bright red, then calmed and settled into a soothing purple. Severus didn't recognize the potion, it was probably experimental. His old teacher was always trying something new.

Lucas leaned back from his worktable and smiled in satisfaction, the only reward Severus had ever seen him allow himself before moving on to the next challenge. But instead of continuing as Severus automatically expected, Lucas turned and casually leaned against the worktable, slowly wiping his hands clean on a well-worn rag. "Can I help you?" he asked, his voice wary, professional.

Severus blinked, confused at the odd response to his presence. What was—oh, yes, the charms. Shaking his head at his neglection, Severus brushed his hand across his face in a wiping gesture, murmuring "Revealus temporarus." The charms faded momentarily so his real features could be seen before flickering back on.

"Severus!" Lucas grinned in recognition and wrapped him in a hug that threatened to break a rib. "What have you been up to, you crazy child!" Lucas squeezed harder and practically lifted him off the floor. Hard to believe the bastard was nearly three centuries old. Damn elf blood.

"Lucas," he groaned, not bothering to correct the child remark, "You know damn well what I've been up too. Now let me go!"

The old reprobate just laughed and released him, watching with amusement as he attempted to smooth out his robes. Lucas's eyes danced a merry blue as he looked him over. "I'm not going to say I told you so," he said, teasingly.

"You better not," Severus grumbled and crossed his arms, feeling petulant and all of six years old: a common occurrence in Lucas's presence.

Lucas was many things to Severus in his youth: teacher, confidant, advisor and general all around pain in the ass. But he was never a shield. He made Severus make his own decisions, good or bad, always saying that the only way that Severus would really learn was in his own way and in his own time. And by paying for his own mistakes.

Unfortunately, the bastard had been right. Severus had to get his head out of the clouds and his perpetual quest for knowledge had to be curbed. Too bad it took a Dark Mark and people dying under his hands for him to figure out that there were more important things in life. But when he did, Lucas was there to point him to Dumbledore's protective arms where he became the teacher and ex-spy he was today.

For that act, Severus was still torn between thanking Lucas … or killing him.

Lucas grinned, looking eerily like a mischievous Sirius Black. "I told you so."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Yes, you did," he grated out. "And yes," he stressed as Lucas opened his mouth to gloat some more, "you were right. It worked."

Things had grown desperate in the three years since Potter's blood had been used to bring Voldemort back to life. Attacks increased, people died and survivors pledged loyalty to the Dark Lord, paying any price to live another day. People went out only in daylight, and when they did, it was in large groups with the worthless notion that there was safety in numbers. Then one day, four months ago, an eager, over-ambitious Auror somehow managed to get himself within the Death Eater ranks. The little fool attacked Voldemort, thinking to take the Dark Lord down himself.

That was the day Severus discovered that the Avada Kedavra curse no longer worked on the Dark Lord.

Stunned silence had fallen over the abandoned hall that the Death Eater's had gathered in. Voldemort, laughing at the Auror's horrified expression, had pulled out his wand and, with a simple elegant wave, fed the fool to Nagini. As the snake had swallowed his prey, alive and trying to scream, Severus had dared to look away, only to catch Voldemort staring at him. There had been a bare flicker of something … predatory in his superior expression that had shown through before Voldemort hid it and turned away. It was so small, that anyone else would have shrugged it off as a figment of their imagination caused by the gruesome display before them. But Severus had not gotten this far in life without being damn observant, and every instinct he owned had its' hackles raised like a cornered street dog.

He'd know then and there that his cover was blown. This chess game between good and evil was in its final moves and he was only a mere pawn trying to take out the black king; a pawn that was about to be removed from the board.

Distressed, he'd reported to Dumbledore after the Death Eaters meeting, then locked himself in his dungeons trying to figure out a plan. He had plotted and paced, wasting the whole night in fruitless effort, and then scared the hell out of the students the next day to vent his frustration. After classes he fled to Lucas's where he spilled everything, hoping for some sort of guidance.

Lucas had calmly listened to it all, then asked a simple question, like they were having one of their old teaching sessions and Lucas was trying to get him to see the obvious himself. "Child, what was the main component used to bring him back to life?"

Severus had stared at him stupidly, trying to order his exhausted mind. "Harry Potter's blood."

"Well then, there's no reason for you to be here," Lucas said simply. He had then stood up, patted Severus on the head and left him sitting at the kitchen table in the dark.

"That was a fat lot of help," Severus finally snarled into the darkness, confused and at a loss. He'd returned home, only to wake up at the crack of dawn with Lucas's statement suddenly making perfect sense. Adava Kedava might not kill Voldemort, but a potion tailored with Potter's blood just might. The greatest source of one's power was also one's weakness. It was a fundamental concept of magic.

He'd detained Potter after class that day – another detention for being a smart mouth – and explained the theory. Potter had watched him with narrowed eyes … then wordlessly stuck his arm out for Severus to draw the first sample. No questions, no accusations, just silent acquiesce. It would have been an off-balancing lack of hostility if he'd stopped to think about it at the time.

Potter then began showing up in his lab at odd hours, never asked for, but always giving blood right when Severus needed it to continue his experiments. He was pretty sure the Boy Who Lived had taken to hiding in his labs to watch him work, hidden under that aggravating Invisibility Cloak. Severus had let him lurk, especially after stacks of homework for his younger classes started getting graded on their own, freeing up his time immensely. And if Severus had been aware of anything, it had been that time was running out.

A Death Eater meeting was called nearly a month later. Severus had left for it with the assurance that the potion was ready; a sample of Potter's blood had begun to deteriorate with only one drop of the white liquid.

Severus, in a fit of sarcasm and desperate hope, had privately named the potion Salvation.

"It worked," he repeated softly to Lucas, still a little disbelieving of the fact that it _had_ worked. There were still nights he awoke in a cold sweat, positive Voldemort was lurking in the shadows to cast his revenge.

Lucas studied him for a second, then just shook his head and turned to bottle his potion. "What can I help you with, child? I know that you didn't walk to the far side of Hogsmeade just to tell me I was right … three months later, I might add. I figured it out myself when Voldemort was declared dead."

Severus ignored the rebuke in Lucas's tone. Yes, he knew he should have visited sooner. "I came to replenish certain ingredients in my private potion stores," he explained, pausing to shove aside thoughts of the past. He wanted to savor this. "But I wanted to warn you that your counter clerk is selling the ingredients of a goblin aging potion to a minor."

Lucas's eyes widened comically and he dropped the empty bottle, which shattered on his lab bench. "Fuck Severus! Why didn't you say so?" he yelled, racing to the front of the store.

Severus smirked and followed, enjoying the all too seldom thrill of catching his normally unflappable teacher off guard.

Now, if only he could do the same to Albus.

* * *

"Well, what do you think?" Lucas asked.

Severus watched the young boy tear down the street like he had a dragon on his heels. Or a Dementor, which Lucas had threatened to feed the boy to if he was ever caught in his shop again. Severus sighed in resignation. "I sincerely hope he doesn't end up at Hogwarts. I'll have a devil of a time getting him into the classroom, let alone teaching him anything."

Lucas chuckled evilly as he herded Severus through the store and back into the lab. "But the important thing is he won't be trying something so dangerous any time soon, will he? Anyway, if you get him I'm sure you'll think of something, you always do."

Severus snorted at the certainty, but Lucas knew him well. He was already playing with various scenarios on how he'd handle the boy. "Necessity, the mother of invention," he murmured quietly, more to himself than his teacher.

Lucas just nodded in agreement, though the furrow on his brow showed he was deep in thought as he shut the heavy lab door behind them. He strode over to his workbench and placed a kettle over one of the flames usually used for heating potions. Severus recognized the preparations for tea … which, damn it all, meant hundreds of prying questions into his life that he had no desire to answer.

Lucas held up a warning finger before he could make excuses to leave. "Consider this punishment for failing to inform me immediately about the boy."

Sighing, Severus sank into a chair. The last time he had tried to escape from one of Lucas's 'punishment' sessions, he'd spent a week watching everything he touched, including himself, turn Gryffindor red and gold. Not an experience he cared to repeat, though Minerva would probably get a kick out of it again.

Lucas's voice broke into his brooding. "Severus? Would you bottle that potion while I finish the tea and get this mess cleared away?"

Severus nodded obediently and pulled himself out of his comfortable chair to examine the contents of Lucas's cauldron. He gave the solution an inquiring stir. "I'm not familiar with this one."

"You wouldn't be," Lucas said as he sealed up the dragon powder jar. "It's an experimental fire repellent potion for the Ministry."

Severus frowned as he began to bottle the potion. "A strange order," he said, not really asking a question, but it had enough inquiry in it that Lucas would answer if he wanted to.

A few bottles flew past his head and gently placed themselves on their proper shelves under the guidance of Lucas's wand. "They want a solution to soak the Auror robes in. Apparently, the standard charms aren't effective for an adequate amount of time under a firefight. I think I've got most of the problems worked out, but I won't know for sure until I conduct another round of tests tomorrow."

Lucas finished up his cleaning and poured Severus a cup of tea as the last bottle of potion was labeled and stored. "Let's take this into my office, I can make a list of what you need while we talk."

The office was, as usual, depressingly bare. Lucas kept it that way, as otherwise he'd use the space to conduct experiments instead of the paperwork necessary to keep his business running. There was the old battered desk, filing cabinets overflowing with parchment, and a small window on the far wall used for owl delivery. It gave an uninspiring view of the brick wall of the building next door and little else.

There was also a large table just inside the door, usually stacked with potions to be delivered by owl. Severus stopped in surprise when he realized that for once in its existence the ancient table was bare of its usual load. Instead it was covered with hundreds of small pieces.

"A muggle puzzle?" he asked in disbelief.

Lucas pulled out his wand. "Close, but not quite," he said and tapped one of the pieces. The colors on all the pieces sprang to life and Severus realized that the puzzle must have been charmed in the same manner as portraits. He picked up one small piece that was covered in a turbulent swirling green. It had a black border that cut across one curved side like a solid scorch mark, which seemed to further agitate the green.

The piece was familiar, in its seeming agitation and old pain. Severus understood it.

The little piece, like the others, was no bigger that the tip of his finger. Severus raised an eyebrow at his teacher. "Just how big is this puzzle of yours?"

Lucas pointed to the box cover as he headed behind his desk to pull out a quill and parchment. The picture, like the pieces, was now animated and depicted a war scene. Severus recognized a battle between two ancient wizarding clans that were the eventual for-bearers of the Gryffindor and Slytherin founders of Hogwarts. A small caption in the corner sized the puzzle at 10,000 pieces.

"You'll never finish it," he commented, and placed the piece between two hand sized sections of puzzle that had already been put together. The piece looked alone yet crowed, like one damaged person by himself who had two large crowds closing in on him from both sides.

"We'll see," Lucas said, and waived him to the chair on the other side of his desk. "Now how are we going to do this?" he asked, then continued before Severus could get in a word edgewise. "I know. For every item you need supplied, you have to answer one question of mine first."

Snape slowly sat in the offered chair, his lengthy order list flashing before his eyes. "There's not the slightest possibility of me just placing an order like an ordinary customer, is there?"

"Nope," Lucas agreed cheerfully as he took another sip of his tea.

It was a sad thing when one knew one's teacher so well. Damn the old goat for refusing to accept any of his orders by owl. It wasn't his fault that a troublesome student had cursed some of his parchment during his first year of teaching to get even for a bad grade. Unfortunately –for Lucas that was –the curse had been set up wrong and just happened to go off when Lucas had received his latest order list. It had destroyed a month's worth of Lucas's work.

The howler that arrived during dinner in the Great Hall had been quite memorable –Albus still reminisced about it –and Lucas had spent every opportunity since then making Severus's life just a little more complicated in retribution. The tea sessions with the probing questions were only one such example.

Severus placed his teacup on the table with a clatter that illustrated his agitation nicely. "Fine," he said, his lip curling in a snarl. "Let's get on with it."

Lucas grinned with wicked glee, then forced his features in to some resemblance of seriousness, though his eyes danced merrily. "I've been reading in the Daily Prophet that you've been shagging every witch and wizard that's shown up at your dungeon door. In your now very experienced expertise, who's by far the best?"

Severus groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

tbc...


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the reviews!_

**PART 2**

By the time he finally placed his order and escaped Lucas's clutches, night had long since spread its inky veil over Hogsmeade. Severus paused on the threshold of Lucas's store, absorbing the nightlife that circulated through the air around him.

Despite its small size in comparison to most muggle cities, Hogsmeade had a thriving nightlife. Taverns and restaurants were running strong, supporting a level of business not seen since Voldemort's first defeat. Light and people spilled out onto the streets. Their conversations and laughter floated on the breeze, filling Severus with an uncharacteristic longing to join in. Music started up in a tavern across the way, the rhythm seeping into his bones.

He felt strange, weightless, like someone had clipped free the last knot tying him to the earth. He should have felt tired, exhausted after the hours spent spilling his soul to an irritating Lucas and a full Friday of teaching hyper students, but instead he felt energized…free. And the last thing he wanted to do was return to his dungeons. Severus frowned at these foreign feelings. Lucas must have slipped something into his tea again. Annoying old bastard.

Oh hell, he might as well enjoy.

After a pause to decide, he headed in the opposite direction from Hogwarts, no destination in mind but slowly wandering from one gathering of light to another, moving like a lazy moth. He flirted along the edges of conversation, amused that he'd been elevated to the status of epic hero beside Potter and Albus.

In one small tavern, an old man held court at the bar, retelling the story of Voldemort's defeat to a rapt audience. They were all adults, but the witches and wizards listened with all the intensity of children hearing a favorite tale. The old man was in his element, holding the room in an enraptured trance with only his voice. Severus took a spot along the wall, just to hear this particular interpretation. And if his ego got stroked a little in the process, so much the better.

The old man took his time, slowly building tension by retelling earlier skirmishes with Voldemort, the ones that led to the final battle. Half of it was inaccurate, but Severus continued to listen as the man was gutsy enough to call Voldemort by his name instead of You Know Who. Severus had almost laughed when a twinge of uneasiness had rippled through the crowd the first time the storyteller had said it. It was if they were waiting for Voldemort's ghost to show up. The old man had continued without a pause, seeming to know that the people needed to learn to deal with that particular fear. Severus decided he liked the gutsy old fellow.

His voice was faintly melodic, strong despite his age, and he weaved a spell of words that reminded Severus of a muggle story; Beowulf, he thought it was called. A story about honor and duty, fighting the good fight and living rightly. It had impressed Severus's young mind when he read it for a special project in Muggle Studies his third year. He'd had trouble reading it at first and, after trying to weasel out of the project, his teacher had told him to try reading it out loud. So late one night he snuck into the Great Hall, damned if he was going to read it out loud like a baby where the other students could hear, especially the Marauders. The acoustics of his voice echoing in the huge hall had given him a thrill unlike any other, and his skin prickled with the memory. He ought to try it again some day, after making sure Potter and his friends weren't out wandering about at night.

The storyteller paused as he came to the final battle, purposely taking a long drink of butter beer. The crowd tittered in anticipation and one young man in the back called out, "Well, go on! Don't leave us hanging!" A light chuckle danced around the room, the crowd acknowledging their strange anticipation, as they all knew how it would end.

The man grinned in acknowledgement, and after gathering his thoughts again, continued. Severus, despite his intentions to the contrary, found his thoughts flashing back to the so-called battle itself.

There had been mud everywhere. Cold, sticky mud that sunk through his robes and slick, slippery mud that had made traction near impossible. Not that the traction problem had been much of a concern; he'd spent most of the time on his knees.

When his mark had burned that fateful day, he notified Albus then apparated to the indicated meeting place –a field just outside of Hogsmeade –with a bottle of Salvation secreted away in his robes. He'd barely taken a step forward when he heard a swoosh of air, and a blow to the back of his head sent him falling into unconsciousness.

Some time later, his first coherent thought had been that someone was trying to get his attention. Another slap across the face had confirmed it.

He'd groaned and cracked open an eye to discover that two of his fellow Death Eaters had braced him on his knees at Voldemort's feet. He was shivering uncontrollably –hypothermia setting in- and he couldn't tell if the wetness on his face was blood or the ice-cold rain that was pouring down. The rest of the Death Eaters had formed a circle around them; the tips of their wands providing light that glittered off the falling rain in an array of sparkling beauty that made his situation seem that much worse in comparison.

Voldemort cast the Crucio curse on him to get his attention, then waited for Severus's screams to stop so he could speak without yelling to be heard. "It looks like our little spy has decided to join us," he said with a malicious sneer as he waved Severus's wand in his face. He deliberately studied the wand for several seconds before tossing it into the darkness the way a person would carelessly throw away a piece of trash. Several of the Death Eaters snickered and Severus felt the blood lust thickening in the air. Apparently, it was going to be one of _those _nights and, lucky him, he was the main attraction. He shivered again, this time in fear; though he stubbornly told himself that it was just the aftereffects of the Crucio.

Voldemort must have caught it because he'd stepped closer and gripped Severus's chin, red-eyes filling up Severus's vision. "Now, now my Severus. I know you dislike sharing my attention, but I have such great plans for tonight. You're just going to have to take turns with young Potter after he arrives … which will be any minute now."

Well, that was something Severus could take a small joy in correcting. "Potter will never respond to any summons from you regarding my continued existence," he snarled.

Voldemort laughed, a short bark that cut through the air. "Of course not!" His eyes darkened and he grabbed the collar of Severus's robe, twisting it so hard that Severus choked. "What do you take me for, a fool? Young Mr. Malfoy's reports have made it quite clear that Potter wouldn't shed a single tear for your demise. But I do believe I have something he _would_ miss terribly." He waved his free hand at the far side of the circle. It parted to let two Death Eaters enter, dragging a black mass from the shadows that looked more dead than alive. They hauled it towards Severus, who watched its approach with the nagging feeling that things were going to get much more complicated.

The mass growled, its mouth tied shut with thick ropes, and it tried to gain its feet only to collapse in a heap of starved bones and patchy black coat. Voldemort approached the animal and patted it on the head, the action an ugly parody of affection. "Severus, I believe you know Harry's godfather, don't you?"

Severus stared, then opened his mouth to deliver a scathing comment as he had nothing left to lose, but was cut off when the distinctive feel of a hand on his chest shocked him into silence. He looked down … nothing there. His captors still had firm grips on both of his arms, though their attention was focused on Voldemort. The invisible hand patted him reassuringly, then was joined by another, and they began pressing against his pockets, searching. Severus squinted. He could barely see a hazy outline of an individual, formed by the falling rain. Potter. Sweet Merlin, it was Potter and his damned Invisibility Cloak. Severus didn't know if he should be furious that the boy was putting himself in danger … or thankful that he wasn't in this mess alone.

Potter quickly found the palm-sized bottle of Salvation, which he hid under a fold of his cloak. He touched Severus one more time, a faint press of his palm directly over Severus's heart before moving away. What the hell? Thrown off balance by the affectionate action, Severus forced his attention back to Voldemort, who was poking at Black's hide the way a child would poke at some revolting yet fascinating object.

Voldemort delivered a kick to Black's side and the mutt yelped in pain. Severus winced; he hated Black's guts, but not enough to watch him slowly tortured to death. Black then growled and Voldemort drew his wand again, causing the others to press closer to see. "Now, now, Mr. Black," he chided. "I don't appreciate aggressive attitudes towards me by my pets. I think its time you had another obedience lesson. Crucio!"

The Death Eaters cheered as Black writhed on the ground, mud matting his coat. Severus winced as his muscles twinged in sympathy. There was only so much a body could take before it began to shut down and Black was already in a bad state. Voldemort laughed and raised his hand to cast the curse again, only to suddenly abort the movement and slap a hand against the back of his neck. "What the devil?" he swore, pulling his hand back to see that his skin was smoking and beginning to fall off in small hunks. Severus blinked in disbelief at the falling flesh before his brain kicked into gear. Potter had poured the Salvation down the back of Voldemort's neck, an action that had gone unnoticed as, like everyone else, Voldemort was soaked to the skin from the rain.

Severus barely resisted a hysterical laugh. How Slytherin of Potter.

Voldemort began to cast a variety of cleaning and removal charms, none of them working as Severus had had the foresight to place a number of counter spells on the potion. The smoke rising off Voldemort's body began to increase and Severus could smell the sick odor of decay.

"Don't just stand there you fools!" Voldemort yelled at his followers in a fury of rage and terror. "Someone get this poison off of me! The rest of you find the traitor who did this!"

The Death Eaters scrambled to comply, only to scatter in different directions as total chaos broke out. Aurors suddenly began to appear in overwhelming numbers, surrounding and hexing Death Eaters as they attempted to flee in panic. Albus had finally come through. The Death Eaters holding his arms released him and fled. Severus collapsed forward, bracing his arms to prevent himself from falling face first into the mud.

Voldemort spun around, his movements jerky as the potion began to destroy muscle and nerve connections along the spinal cord. Bones would take longer to deteriorate. "You!" he screamed, shakily pointing his wand at Potter.

The seventh-year student was bent over Black, trying to use his wand to remove the bindings around the animagus's muzzle. The Invisibility Cloak had slipped open, revealing his head and hands as he worked.

"Can't you just die!" Voldemort roared. He began to wave his wand to cast Avada Kedavra, more flesh dropping to the ground. Harry reacted and raised his wand then abruptly turned away, forced to hex a Death Eater that was attempting to grab him and use him as a hostage. Damn it all to hell! Severus could feel his heart trying to crawl up his throat in fear as he tried to make his sluggish body work. He got to his feet at the same time as Black surged to his and they both charged the Dark Lord.

Black got to Voldemort first, barreling his lightened yet not inconsiderable weight into the Dark Lord's legs. Voldemort went down in a tangle of jerking limbs and curses, his wand sliding out of his hand as skin came free of muscle. Black swayed to the side; paw swiping at his face to remove the bindings that prevented him from doing anything else. He stumbled, then dropped unconscious to the ground, his starved body unable to take anymore.

Voldemort scrambled to his knees and tried to reach for his wand with the other hand, only to be tackled back to the ground by Severus. He thrashed and Severus, in a struggle to pin him down, rolled him over and straddled the monster's chest, using his legs to keep his arms pinned to the side and his weight to keep him from getting up.

"Traitor," Voldemort hissed, the word sounding gurgled as the potion made its way to his vocal cords.

"Surprise," Severus growled, one hand gripping each shoulder to prevent him from doing anything else in his last moments of existence. Voldemort continued to struggle, anger and pain and hate rippling across his face as his body began to shut down.

Hands descended out of nowhere and pressed down on top of his, lending additional strength. Severus looked up from Voldemort's face to see Potter kneeling behind the Dark Lord's head. "How much longer?" Potter asked, his eyes hard.

"Soon," Severus said, as Voldemort went silent after one last furious howl and stilled beneath him. Unable to believe he was dead, they stared at the corpse, looking for movement.

"He's really dead , right?" Potter finally asked, the tremble of shock and an adrenaline crash distorting his voice.

"Let's make sure," Severus said. He grabbed his master's head with both hands and twisted until he heard a crunching pop. He did not deny himself the satisfaction he took in the sound. He had wanted to do that for a long time.

Potter jerked, eyes darting between Severus and Voldemort several times before finally settling on Voldemort's face. "No resurrection plans, right?" he asked, obviously needing to check.

"None that I know of," Severus answered tiredly, "but I'm making damn sure his body gets cremated with the bodies of any family members we can find, especially his father's."

He slowly leaned back and surveyed the battle ground around him. Death Eaters lay dead or petrified at the feet of Aurors who were counting their own dead, helping the wounded or chasing down the few who were still fleeing. He could see Dumbledore making his way through the carnage to see if they were all right.

"It's finally over, isn't it?" Potter asked, looking once again like the seventh year student that he was.

Severus swallowed painfully. "Yes," he said and attempted to get to his feet, suddenly needing to get as far as possible from the body beneath him. Potter snatched his wrist, preventing him from rising. "He was wrong."

"What are you going on about?" he snapped. He wanted away from his dead master.

"Voldemort was wrong. I would mourn your passing," Potter said fiercely, sincerity written all over his face.

Severus was stunned. He stared, then slowly nodded his head. If there was ever a time for truth, this was it. "I would miss you too, Potter," he admitted, then rose to his feet, looking at anything except the boy. "Make sure no one comes near the corpse and keep an eye on Black. I'll find him some help." He had then made his way to Albus, his knees weak and threatening to give out on him.

Severus had refused to think about that particular part of the battle until today.

A hand on his arm jerked Severus's attention back to the tavern and he pushed his memories away. A petite waitress was studying him with concern as she balanced a tray loaded with drinks. "Mister, are you okay? You look like you've been shocked by lightning or something."

Without thinking, Severus pasted a reassuring smile on his face and gave her hand an assuring squeeze as he removed it from his arm. "I'm fine," he lied, "just in awe of the gentleman's oratory talent."

"He's really good, isn't he?" she agreed as she looked over her shoulder at the old man who had finished and was conversing with some of the remaining members of his audience. "He's thinking about writing it down and getting some people together to act it out. Hey," she said, turning back to Severus, "you've got a good voice. You could probably play the role of Professor Snape. I hear he's got a great voice."

Severus barely managed to keep a straight face. "I think not. 'Acting' is not quite in my line of expertise."

The waitress looked a little disappointed. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Your loss," the waitress sighed, and hurried off to serve an impatiently waiting customer.

Severus just shook his head in bemusement and walked back outside to the deserted street, pausing to let the night wind cleanse away the clinging heat from the over-packed tavern. The air still had the bite of winter, but he could feel spring slowly beginning to nuzzle its way through.

A flick of a dark robe caught his eye as it disappeared into an alleyway, pulling his curiosity with it. Severus frowned, he'd passed by that alleyway on his way to the tavern and he knew that it was a dead end, not even ten feet deep. There was no reason for anyone to go in there -- unless the rear wall was not the brick construction that it first appeared to be. Possibly a concealed entrance, like the one to Diagon Alley. He frowned. But that didn't make sense, there were no muggles to keep out as Hogsmeade was a full wizard community.

Another possibility popped up and the last of the good mood of the evening dissipated. It could be an entrance to a Death Eater meeting. With names he'd supplied, Aurors had caught most of them, but Severus knew more than a few escaped, twenty at least, including Lucius Malfoy. The coward had even abandoned his son at Hogwarts. Death Eater egos were too big to lay low for long; hidden entrances in dead end alleys had been a favorite means of hiding meetings.

He had to be sure. Severus sighed, grumbled about life never leaving him alone and crossed the street to the alleyway, careful to stick to the shadows even though the moon was only a pale sliver in the sky.

He slid into the shadows along the near wall, movement pulling his attention to the far corner where the robed figure stood. The man was cursing quietly to himself as he felt along the brick wall, obviously looking for something. He searched in vain for a few minutes, then muttered another curse, a creative one that had Severus raising his eyebrows, and pulled out his wand.

"Lumos," he whispered. Severus quickly threw a hand over his eyes, catching only an image of red hair before the sudden light sent pain scorching through his night-adjusted eyes. Snape bit his tongue to keep from giving himself away, after years in the dungeons his eyesight at night was better than most wizards in daylight.

The other man cut the light to a fraction of its original brightness, a hand rubbing at his own eyes. Serves the bastard right, Severus thought, pleased to see that whoever the fool was, he'd gotten a dash of his own stupidity. There were other ways to find something in the dark without using a damn lumos charm.

The fool straightened, his hand running through his hair only to purposely pull it down over the right side of his head. Severus's eyes narrowed, positive he'd seen that movement before, but not quite able to place it.

The man immediately found what he'd been looking for, a vertical row of three bricks. He tapped all three, from top to bottom with the point of his wand, then pushed the first and third ones into the wall. There was a click, and he paused before pulling on the middle brick, causing a door to appear. The man hesitated for a second, then squared his shoulders, pulled it open and went inside.

Severus waited for a minute, long enough to make sure the man wasn't coming right back out, then darted down the alley and unlocked the door himself, without a light.

He opened it only an inch or so and peered inside. Instead of opening to the expected room, it turned out to be the entrance to a barely lit hallway, about a hundred meters or so long that opened to a far room. Clothing hung off hooks along the wall near the room's entrance, blocking out the movement inside and muffling the sounds of music and the low murmur of voices. The red head was at the far end, pulling off his cloak and robe, revealing tight leather pants and a clinging black shirt that looked like silk. It was an alluring ensemble that had Severus shifting uncomfortably as he silently entered and closed the door behind him. The random thought that none of it was decent enough to be worn in public flirted across his mind.

He paused as that thought sank in and suddenly knew exactly where he was.

Bloody hell, it was a brothel!

If he was caught in there his days as a teacher were over. Parents would go barmy if they found out one of their children's teachers visited a whorehouse. Despite his bickering to the contrary, he liked working at Hogwarts and he was not going to loose his position to something as – as idiotic as this!

He spun around to open the door, but it suddenly opened on its own, yanking the handle out of his hand.

A middle aged wizard entered, wearing ratty robes that had seen better days. He paused, giving Severus a squinty eyed once over, studying him like a piece of horse flesh from head to toe. "Work or play?" he finally asked, his words slurring a little with drink.

Oh fucking perfect. "Neither," Severus snarled as he attempted to push past, only to watch the door close and disappear over the man's shoulder. Blast it!

The man chuckled, taking Severus's building frustration for frustration of another kind. "First time here, sonny? Come on, I'll show you around." He grabbed Severus's arm and started to pull him down the hallway. "Besides, the exits are on the other side of the room. Keeps Auror's from sneaking in and seeing stuff. The wards catch 'em and they get their memory obliviated before they leave."

Aurors. Memory obliviation. Fuck. Severus forced himself to swallow and let the man pull him in, knowing that in his inebriated state the man would raise a fuss if he protested, gaining everyone's attention. He'd just have to shake the pest and find an exit as soon as possible. How the hell had the night turned into this?

The main room was just like the one he remembered from the foolish days of his youth, hazy and dark with strategically placed lights under which prostitutes would gather, showing themselves off until they were picked up by a client. Severus's eyes darted about. There were groupings of chairs and couches, stained and torn; and stairs that led to rooms where things he didn't want to remember took place. And on the far wall was a door with 'exit' faintly marked on the top. Freedom. Severus attempted to steer them in that direction.

The man, though, had other ideas and wouldn't release his arm. He was trying to tug Severus to a table where two well-endowed blondes sat. "Over here, come meet two of my favorite girls," he said.

No, definitely not.

Severus planted his feet and tried to free his arm in a civil manner, resisting the desire to cast an unforgivable on the annoying little leech. "I really don't think that--" He cut himself off mid-protest, his attention caught by a disagreement taking place under one of the lights just a few feet away. It was the red headed man.

He was in a similar predicament as Severus, his wrist caught by a larger man that was about Severus's height. The red head was young, a few years older, at most, than the students Severus taught. His messy hair was a dark red, deep as blood, but not glaringly bright like the Weasley brats. Though one or two inches shorter than Severus, his tight clothes showed that he was a powerhouse, sleekly built in a way that said he'd be at home in the water or playing Quidditch.

But those physical attributes weren't what had Severus's attention. No, not in the slightest. It was the glare the man was giving the man who had his wrist. The eye color was wrong, a dark brown, and the glasses were missing, but it was a glare Severus had seen directed at him a thousand times, usually over a bubbling cauldron, or more recently, a beaker filling with blood.

A usually green-eyed glare that belonged to an individual Severus was going to strangle when he got a hold of him. Potter. There was no way in hell it could be anybody else.

Blasted brat! Severus took a deep breath to control his temper only to come to the realization that his arm had been released. He glared at his captor, who was sucking on a bottle of whiskey and giving him a knowing look. "Fancy blokes, huh?" he said, giving Severus a wink and a nudge. "Go get him, that other guy seems to have given up." Before Severus could think up an adequately scathing response, the man stumbled off with his blondes in tow.

Fancy Potter? He was going to be sick.

Severus turned back around to give the bane of his existence a piece of his mind, after he removed him from the premises of course, only to find that the little prat had walked off. Potter was looking into some of the recessed areas along the wall, obviously searching for someone and trying not to attract attention. He was failing miserably. A few ladies at a nearby table were blatantly staring, eyes running up and down his athletic form; the man that had him by the arm earlier was still eyeballing him from a corner table. That did it. Severus didn't care what Potter was looking for, the boy was going to have detention until he graduated.

He swooped down on the boy, grabbed his arm and hauled him into one of the empty recesses.

"I don't know what you're up to," Severus hissed, nose to nose with a momentarily stunned Potter, "but you're an utter failure as a spy."

"How did--" Potter started to say then caught himself. He slipped on a stubborn face on and started trying to twist out of Severus's grasp. "Listen mister, I don't know what you're talking about and I'm not interested in a shag, so knock it off and let me go." Potter's voice lowered and he suddenly looked ten years older and much more dangerous. "Now," he ordered darkly.

Severus was vaguely impressed; Potter had quite a spine when he wanted to use it. He narrowed his eyes and pressed closer, his lips brushing against Potter's ear. He was pleased to feel the boy shiver against him, scared. Good. "Twenty points," Severus growled, "for being out after curfew. Seventy points for being caught in an adult establishment. Ten points for being an aggravating prat and one hundred more if you don't tell me what the hell you're doing here."

Potter bought a clue and jerked back. "Sn-" he started to exclaim and Severus slapped a hand over his mouth. "Shut up!" he hissed.

Par for course, Potter didn't bother cooperating. His eyes flashed and Severus felt teeth graze the palm of his hand. He jerked it back before he could get bit. "Why you little--"

Alarms interrupted him, tearing through his words. The lights came up and people began screaming, running to the exits in a mad dash, jostling like stampeding horses. Some were half-clothed, others were naked and most were intoxicated with who knew what. A rare few sat quietly at their tables, looking like rocks in the middle of a raging current that had seen this scene before and knew escape was futile.

"What's going on?" Potter yelled over the din, jerking on his arm.

"Does it look like I know?" Severus snapped as he pulled Potter out of the path of one hasty moving witch. Whatever was happening, staying was obviously a very bad idea. There were more screams and the flow of the crowd suddenly changed directions, doubling back on itself like waves crashing off of the side of a lake in a storm. Aurors had started pushing their way through the doors, stupifying people when they weren't trading punches or throwing hexes. They immediately blocked off all of the doors with wards to prevent escape. Fuck, it was a bust.

Severus quickly pulled Potter under a table trying to buy some time to figure a way out. Exits were obviously out of the question and he couldn't apparate through the building's wards. There were too many Aurors to fight their way through. And there was no way they could just let themselves be caught.

Or could they? He and Potter were both wearing facial charms. He had no identification on him and from the tightness of his clothes, neither did Potter. All he had to do was make sure that the Aurors couldn't remove the charms, and find some way to contact Albus to get them out later. It would work. It had to work.

Severus pulled his wand out and began casting a complicated locking spell on the charms on his face. He'd never been good at charms, but necessity had been a motivated teacher and he'd learned his lessons well. He'd developed this charm with Flitwick after seeing one of his students playing with a notebook computer that he'd brought to school. The device, extensively warded to work at Hogwarts, had required passwords in order to operate. He'd found the notion intriguing and designed this charm around that principle. An Auror would have to perform the removal charms in combination with his password to get the charms to dissolve.

As Severus worked, Potter silently watched him out of the corner of his eye, keeping most of his attention on the chaos around him. Severus felt a small bolt of pride at the boy's actions, he'd learnt some of his lessons well. Albus had drafted him into giving Potter extra defense lessons during the boy's sixth year and there'd been times he'd despaired of the stubborn Gryffindor learning any of it.

He finished the spell just as Potter gave a "Head's up!" and pulled Severus farther under the table, wrapping protective arms around his potion teacher's head. A hex collided against the wall above the table and sent chunks of brick raining down.

Wasting no time with explanations, Severus grabbed Potter by the chin and began to cast the charm on the unresisting boy, only to groan in dismay as Potter's hair slipped to the side and revealed that infamous scar. "Couldn't you hide that damn thing?"

Potter shook his head, his fingers pulling his hair over the scar. "Tried to, it kept dissolving through the charm. I think it has something to do with the Dark Magic in it."

Dark Magic. That reminded him he still had a Death Eater brand on his arm to conceal and that thing ate through charms too. Severus thought furiously, looking about the chaotic room for inspiration. The Aurors were getting the crowd under control and would be on their side of the room in a matter of minutes. Time was running out. His eyes fell on an overturned bowl on the ground that was leaking something over the dirty floor.

Severus darted out a hand and picked it up, barely avoiding having his fingers stepped on. It was partially filled with a type of sweet, similar to molasses or syrup. Popular in establishments like these because it was fun to lick off fingers and other body parts. It'd work nicely for what he had in mind.

He quickly dipped out a finger full and reached for Potter's head. Potter leaned back and made a disgusted face. "What are you doing?"

Severus rolled his eyes and instead of wasting time arguing like he wanted to, he pulled back his sleeve and smeared it across his Dark Mark. He then cast a coloring spell on the sweet to blend it into his skin and a hardening spell to keep the mess from sticking to anything else. It'd pull like crazy but he could live with that. Potter's face dawned with understanding, and he performed the same actions with his scar as Severus cast the password charm on his arm. With time running out, he then set to work on applying it to Potter's facial charms.

He finished just as an Auror looked under the table and stupified both of them.

tbc.


	3. Chapter 3

**PART 3**

Severus could feel his lips twitch. Just a little tugging at the corners that was starting to slip out of his control. Smiling, however, was a bad idea; the enraged Auror leaning over him would probably hex him into next week. Not that the idea didn't have its appeal; it would be a welcome change from the tediousness of this so-called interrogation.

The Auror, Mr. Keleghan, loomed over him for a few seconds then began a slow circuit of the room, intending the action to be threatening, but Severus could tell that it was an attempt to rein in his temper. He had been less that impressed by the famous Mr. Keleghan, a legend of the Ministry, and Mr. Keleghan was less than pleased by Severus's nonchalant attitude regarding his importance. But then again, pompous fools had never gained any sort of respect from Severus.

Mr. Keleghan paused at the far side of the room and obviously decided to change tactics. He pulled a chair up to the table and sat down directly in front of Severus. The chair groaned under his heavy bulk and after getting a good look at his oily face, Severus decided he preferred staring at the wall.

"Now this doesn't have to be as hard as we're making it out to be," Keleghan said in a friendly manner as he folded his hands on the table. "All you have to do is remove the charms and tell us your name. We'll book you, charge you the fine, and your name will be printed in the Daily Prophet just like everyone else's. Sure, you'll probably get a couple of howlers, and if you're a business owner, well, things won't be so good for a while, but it's not the end of the world."

Mr. Keleghan spread his hands and pasted a compromising smile on his face that was ruined by his gritted teeth. "So, let's start over. What's your name?" Severus wishfully thought he could hear the enamel cracking.

Hmm. How to answer this? Severus tilted his head to the side and pretended to look thoughtful. "I could be mistaken, but I'm positive you've asked that question, and that I've provided an answer," he drawled.

There was a pregnant pause, then Mr. Keleghan snapped, slamming a beefy hand onto the table. "Like hell you have! If you're Sirius White then I'm Sirius Black!"

A titter of laughter broke free from the dozen or so Aurors who had gathered behind Severus to watch their so-called legend at work. Severus allowed himself a smirk as Mr. Keleghan turned a gratifying shade of red and stormed out of the room, yanking one Auror out with him by the scruff of his robe.

There was more laughter from the others and then the room filled with the chatter of work conversation. It appeared that no one else was going to have a go at him. Severus grumbled to himself and tried to shift in the hard chair he'd been body bound into. He'd been sitting in the blasted thing for four hours. His muscles were beginning to cramp and the sweet he'd smeared on his Dark Mark felt like it was pulling his skin off. He was fast loosing patience for the whole mess. Potter had better have a good explanation or he'd show the brat just why he'd been a Death Eater in the first place. That was if he ever found Potter. The Ministry was famous for its less than stellar treatment of prostitutes and were known to demand free services; Severus derailed that train of thought. He'd deal with it, if and when it occurred.

There were sounds of a scuffle in the hallway and two junior Aurors stumbled into the room, one of them levitating a pissed off Potter. Mr. Keleghan followed behind in a fury of robes. "Stick him in the chair in front of the other one."

The fresh-faced Aurors complied; they shoved Potter into Keleghan's abandoned chair and pushed him close to the table. Potter winced, then snarled at both of them. They ignored him and darted out of the room without waiting for further instructions, causing Mr. Keleghan to yell his orders down the hallway after them. Severus used the distraction of their hasty exit to give Potter a quick glance over. He was a little worse for wear, but didn't act as if he was traumatized. He had the beginnings of a black eye and a few rips in his shirt that showed off some darkening bruises, but nothing that looked like it required immediate medical attention.

That condition might change, however, if the glare he was giving Mr. Keleghan was any indication. Severus arched an eyebrow at his student, torn between warning Potter to behave and sitting back and watching the show. It promised to be interesting, and if anything could be said about Potter, it was that he had a knack for stirring up trouble.

Keleghan stormed back into the room and towered over the end of the table, glaring first at Severus, then at Potter, a muscle visibly jumping in his jaw. "This is your last chance," he warned. "We've determined that you're both wearing the same charm, so it's obvious that one of you cast it. Now cooperate or be prepared to face the consequences."

Potter blinked, sniggered, then looked at Severus. "Is this guy for real?" he asked, the gleam in his eye inviting Severus to play along.

Hell, why not. Hard to take fools like this seriously after groveling at Voldemort's feet.

Severus sighed theatrically. "Unfortunately, yes. I've had the displeasure of his company for the past hour. And for some reason that I can't quite comprehend, we've been unable to get past introductions."

"Really?" Potter nodded thoughtfully. "I've noticed the same thing. Not very effective is he? I mean, I've seen muggles who can do a better job at interrogation than--"

"That does it!" Keleghan roared, offended at being compared to a muggle. He pulled out his wand, transfigured the table into a bug then squished if flat before it could scamper more than a foot. He leveled his wand at Potter. "You have done nothing but try my patience since the moment you were brought in. I don't like your sort and will not put up with this disrespect. Step out of line again and you'll be joining the table. _Understood?_"

"Clearly," Potter said, calmly staring Keleghan in the eye. Severus, after years of teaching Potter, could see the lie as clear as daylight.

Keleghan sneered at him, then stepped in front of Potter and turned his back on him so he could glare at Severus. "Now. What. Is. Your. Name."

Severus calmly met Keleghan's eyes. "Sirius White."

There was a laugh behind Keleghan, which quickly cut itself off. Keleghan tensed even further, a vein throbbing in his forehead. Severus wondered how long it would take him to strain something. Maybe even have a heart attack. He had enough fat that the odds were rather good.

Severus wanted to watch it happen.

Keleghan finally took a deep breath, ignoring Potter. "Perhaps you aren't familiar with the laws regarding your situation. You are being charged with using the services of a prostitute. Article 381, section 12 of Wizarding Law clearly states that--"

Severus quickly tuned him out. The last thing he needed was Wizarding Law quoted at him, he was more familiar with the intricacies of the damn thing than he'd ever wanted to be thanks to the hearings of Death Eaters he'd had to stand witness for.

And apparently he wasn't the only one who didn't want to hear it.

Potter, having no concern for his continued existence, was leaning over the side of his chair as far as his bonds would allow, and was attempting to get a look at Keleghan's face. He paused long enough to give Severus a shit-eating grin, then turned back to his examination. He mimicked the Auror's sour look to perfection, reciting a whole paragraph in perfect synchronization with Keleghan. He then topped the performance off by crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out.

Several of the other Aurors broke out in laughter, some of them were even clapping. Severus shoved down his own amusement, unwilling to laugh at behavior that had obviously come from Black. Potter had been spending way too much time with his godfather.

Keleghan, unfortunately, wasn't that dim witted. He spun around, anger overflowing the last of his self control, and aimed his wand at Potter.

Severus sucked in a deep breath, positive things were going to turn ugly and that he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Thankfully, someone else did. One gray haired Auror pushed himself away from the wall and yanked Keleghan's hand down before the man could spit out the words of a hex. "That's enough Keleghan. Let's just stick them in a cell and let the boss deal with them in the morning."

Keleghan yanked his hand free. "You can't be serious! They're not signed in! They've--"

"Don't argue with me," the Auror cut in. "You've stepped over the line already and you know it. The boss warned you about doing this and I'll report you if you continue."

Keleghan shut his mouth with a snap, his eyes bulging in anger. "Fine," he spat and stormed out of the room.

The Auror sighed and rubbed a tired hand over his face. He briefly glanced at the ceiling and Severus could see him mouth the words 'why me?' He sighed again, then pivoted on a heel and started giving out orders to have Severus and Potter transferred to a cell. Severus briefly wondered why he wasn't in charge.

The others scrambled to carry them out, and Severus took a huge amount of enjoyment in snarling at the young Auror who levitated him out of the chair without giving a thought to the fact that his muscles were cramped up.

Merlin, he hated getting old.

* * *

The cell was exactly what Severus imagined it to be. It was cold, damp, dark, and dirty, and he doubted he could take three strides across it. There was a toilet behind a shabby curtain in one corner, and the slab of rock along the far wall that served as a bed could barely accommodate one person, let alone two.

All in all, it was a sickening replica of the cells at Azkaban, only minus the dementors. Ah, that brought back memories.

"Charming," Potter commented as he was pushed into the cell behind Severus. Their Auror escort quickly locked the barred door and set up several wards to keep them from escaping, then disappeared down the ill-lit hallway.

Severus scowled. A night spent locked up in a cell with Harry Potter, just what he had always wanted.

Not.

Potter, catching wind of Severus's foul mood, planted his feet just inside the door and began an in-depth study of the various species of slime that covered the floor, probably hopping that Severus would fail to notice his existence. Too bad, he had other plans.

Severus crossed his arms and glared down on his student's bowed head. "I suggest you explain yourself, and in complete detail, or I will make your last months with me utter hell."

Potter blanched; recognizing that Severus was implying detention for the rest of his term at Hogwarts. He swallowed nervously and spent a few moments contemplating the matter, before saying slowly, "I can't talk about it here."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't," he stressed, his eyes darting to Severus's arm where the Dark Mark lay, before staring intently at the older man's face. Severus felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. Voldemort. "You're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting, are you?"

Potter gave his head one quick shake, as if afraid that if he shook it too much it might roll off his shoulders. "No, not him. But someone trying to be him." His words were quiet, as if they contained too much weight to be merely tossed out into the air like something inconsequential.

Severus studied the boy in front of him. For the first time, he noticed the lines of worry that were beginning to crease Potter's face, the dark circles under his eyes that spoke of strain, and stress, and lack of sleep. There was a depth to his gaze that spoke of understanding, of shouldering a responsibility that other adults had shied away from. He was too old for a seventeen-year-old. He hadn't been a boy for a long time.

In all the ways that truly counted, Harry Potter was a man.

It was time Severus treated him like one. "Very well," he said and took a seat on their stone bed, the discussion on hold until they could continue it in safer venues.

Potter blinked a couple of times, startled by the sudden capitulation. He opened his mouth to say something, thought about it, and then snapped it shut again, accompanying the action with a small shake of his head. Silence descended on the cell and Severus shifted, uncomfortably aware of how cold and hard the so called bed was. Potter poked at a hole in his shirt and Severus's attention was once again focused on the bruises peaking through the various tears. "How serious are your injuries?"

The question jolted Potter out of his intense examination of the fabric and he stiffly limped across the few feet of cell to sit down beside Severus. "Just bruised. They stuck a group of us in together and a fight broke out, that's all."

"Nothing else?"

Potter frowned, sensing an undercurrent of something dark in the question. "No, why?"

"Don't be dense. It's common knowledge that Aurors aren't exactly 'civil' to prostitutes."

"What are you talking about? I know Ron said something about--," he trailed off. "Oh."

Severus refused to dignify that realization with a comment. Potter still needed to learn to think things through a little farther than just two steps down the road. Some days the Boy Who Lived was his own worst enemy.

"No, nothing like that happened," Potter said slowly, his face a shade whiter than before. He shivered and rubbed at the goose flesh that covered his arms. "Shit, it's cold."

Severus realized he could see Potter's breath in the air, little pale clouds that faded away only to be replaced in the next exhalation. He pulled off his winter cloak and dropped it around Potter's shoulders. Potter looked at him in surprise.

"Don't say a word. A particular nurse we both know would kill me if I knowingly let you get sick."

"Right." Potter gave a small snort of disbelief, at what Severus couldn't tell, but he pulled the cloak close without further argument.

They sat in silence for a while, then Potter gave a tired sigh and laid down. There wasn't much room at his end of the stone bed, but he somehow managed to curl himself into a small ball pressed against Severus's hip, the cloak pulled tight over his head to try and conserve heat.

Severus watched the near contortionist act and wondered just how much practice Potter must have had to make himself seem that small, that insignificant.

He didn't like the answer he came up with.

* * *

"Well, I'll be damned."

Severus frowned as the cauldron in his dreams actually dared to talk back to him. Ungrateful piece of equipment, he'd have to give it to Longbottom; that'd teach it some manners.

"Pssst! Wake up!"

The cauldron grew some lizard legs and scampered off the edge of the table only to hit the dungeon floor in a loud clatter.

Severus woke up.

"I said '_wake up_!' " a gravely voice hissed again, giving the prison bars another rattle.

Severus swiped a hand across his blurry eyes and immediately became aware of two things. One, he'd fallen asleep sitting up and every muscle along his spine was tied in knots. And two, he had a very warm and heavy weight draped across his lap.

Potter had shifted during the night and was now curled around Severus, his head pressed into Severus's stomach. He'd wrapped his arms around Severus's waist and had burrowed his hands up underneath the back of Severus's shirts and robe to keep warm. Severus could feel each fingertip that brushed his bare skin. The cloak was still pulled over Potter's head, hiding him from the view of the shadow that had woken Severus up.

Realizing that the shadow on the other side of the door wasn't a dream remnant, Severus's hands automatically dropped to Potter's shoulders, pulling him closer in an unthinking act of protection. Potter didn't respond to the movement; his slow, even breaths indicating he was still sound asleep.

"Show yourself," Severus ordered quietly.

The haggard figure shifted so the dim light of the hallway fell across his face. Mad Eye Moody.

Moody leaned closer to the door, so his face was nearly pressed against the black bars. "I was given the most interesting report when I came into work today. It was a rather fascinating tale about a prostitute and his client that seemed to have spent the night driving my men up the wall. Then I come down here to find that you, of all people, are one of the men in question. Knowing what I know about you laddie, I'm going to assume that you weren't there for what they're charging you with, were you?"

"No, we weren't," Severus said as he realized that Moody knew exactly who he was and was trying to talk to him without giving information to any potentially eavesdropping ears. He carefully pulled up the edge of the cloak and saw that Potter's facial charms were still in place so his had to be as well. "How did--?"

Moody pointed at his magical blue eye, which was rolling around in his head, completely independent of the other. "It sees through disguise charms."

"I see," he said slowly. "How do we arrange to get out of here?"

"It'll take a few hours and there'll be fines, but I'll pull some strings and get them to let both of you out without further documentation."

Severus's eyes narrowed, Mad Eye Moody was not renowned for doing favors, he was too suspicious of people, especially Severus Snape, to act in such a friendly way. That meant only one thing. "What will I owe you?"

Moody studied him for a long minute. "Nothing," he finally said. "You took care of _him_ and that's one huge thorn that's no longer in my side." Moody paused. "Actually, you can satisfy my curiosity. Who's your cohort?"

Severus glanced down at Potter's covered form. "Moody," he said with a trace of sarcasm, deliberately throwing back Moody's words, "knowing what you know about where I come from, _who_ do you think it is?"

Moody just nodded. "The boy. I thought so." He turned around and headed down the hall without so much as another word, the thunk of his wooden foot echoing off the walls.

Un-surprised by Moody's rude exit, Severus listened to his offbeat footsteps until they were cut off by the clang of a heavy door. He sighed and turned his attention back to more pressing matters. Or, more accurately, the matter pressing against him.

Potter was still in dreamland, perfectly content to continue using Severus as a pillow. Which was a situation Severus could have forced himself to tolerate, except for the fact that his back was screaming for a good stretch and his prick had taken an interest in the situation. He had this nearly overwhelming urge to move, yet any type of movement could wake Potter up, revealing his current state.

He tried to tug at Potter's arms to see if he could just pull him off, but that proved to be futile as Potter tightened his grip and hung on, only to relax when Severus quit trying to remove him. He tried again, and felt Potter's fingertips brush across his lower back, as if he was being stroked. Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Severus pulled up the edge of the cloak, only to see that, yes, Potter was still asleep. Blasted teenager. He could probably sleep through Hogwarts burning down around his ears. Severus dropped the cloak back down on Potter's head.

He stewed in his own frustration for a few more minutes before his back finally won the internal debate. Keeping a firm ear out for Potter waking up, he slowly arched his back, enjoying the popping sounds his spine made as it sorted itself out. He resolutely ignored physical pleasure as he pushed against Potter's warm heat.

Aggravated, and knowing he wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep, Severus forced himself to start mentally mapping out his end of term exams. The pressure on his cock kept distracting him.

"Why is nothing with you ever easy?" he said, resigning himself to holding Potter.

Unknown to Severus, Potter, still hidden by the cloak, smiled and continued to pretend he was asleep. It looked like something good had come out of living with the Dursleys after all.

* * *

Severus's fine was huge.

Potter's was larger.

Mr. Keleghan leaned his large bulk over the front desk and handed Severus a quill as he scowled down at him. "Just sign at the bottom of the parchment and we'll have the money transferred from your Gringotts account."

Severus arched a disbelieving eyebrow. "After all the trouble we went through last night, do you really think I'd fall for something as inane as this?"

Potter, who'd been standing silently at Severus's shoulder, and was still wrapped in Severus's cloak to hide his torn shirt, choked back a laugh.

Keleghan flushed red with rage at being caught. "How the hell else do you plan on paying?"

"Get me a Ministry owl. I'll arrange to have payment delivered." The payment would be via Lucas. Severus had a nice stash of money hidden under the floors of the old elf's lab, just for situations like this when taking money out of his Gringotts account was a bad idea.

Keleghan hurried off, but Severus caught the conniving look on the overweight man's face. He was probably planning on having the owl retrace its flight after it returned and tracking it himself. No matter, Lucas would automatically take care of that problem.

Keleghan returned with a barn owl, which waited patiently as Severus wrote the amount he needed on a piece of parchment and simply signed it 'student'. Lucas would know whom it was from. He tied the note to the owl's leg and carried it out of Keleghan's hearing range before whispering the destination to it. The owl took off in a strong flap of wings and left through one of the open windows.

Severus sat down at one of the benches with Potter to wait for the owl's return. Potter kept silent and waited patiently, while Severus ignored the occasional smirk Keleghan sent their way. He'd have the pleasure of wiping it off soon enough.

The owl returned a short while later, laboring under a heavy sack of money. Severus dumped the money into Keleghan's grasping hands while he read a note that had been attached to the sack. It simply read, 'Come to tea.' The word 'come' was heavily underlined. Ah, not an invitation but an order, one that Lucas wanted followed immediately. It looked like Potter and he were going to be making a slight detour before they returned to Hogwarts.

Keleghan counted the money, then handed them back their wands and waved them off in sour dismissal. They were barely out the door when Kelghan's enraged voice brought them to a halt. "What's wrong with this blasted owl?" he roared.

Severus turned around to see that the owl was teetering drunkenly on its perch. "It looks like its been subjected to a short term memory erasure charm," he said blandly, then pushed a laughing Potter out the door.

* * *

Lucas met them at the front door of his shop, which was strangely closed to Saturday business. He shot Potter a cold, calculating look, but hurriedly ushered them inside before securely locking his door and placing up several wards.

Severus was baffled by the strange behavior. "Lucas, what's--"

"In a moment child," Lucas interrupted. "First, tell me who this is," he said, gesturing at Potter. Severus paused at the seriousness in his teacher's voice, but decided that it was time to take the charms off the both of them. He performed the unlocking charm, then removed the disguise charms and finally cast a cleaning spell to get rid of that damn sweet.

Potter rubbed at his scar in relief. "About time, I thought that stuff was going to pull my skin off," he said as he pulled a very small box, a centimeter in size, out of one tight pants pocket. He enlarged it, pulled out his glasses and slipped them on his face.

"The famous Harry Potter," Lucas said, carefully watching Potter's reaction. Potter wrinkled his nose in dislike, but caught himself and forced it away.

Lucas nodded his head in approval. "I'm glad to see that fame hasn't gone to your head young man. Come, let's go to my office. I'm afraid I have bad news that concerns both of you."

Severus and Potter traded worried looks, but quietly followed the older man through the store, lab and finally into the office. Lucas waved for them to take a seat while he locked his office door and placed several silencing charms around the small space.

"Now we can speak freely," Lucas said, as he took a seat behind his desk.

"Lucas, what's going on?" Severus asked, utterly bewildered at the caution Lucas was suddenly exhibiting.

Lucas picked up a piece of parchment off of his desk and showed it to both of them. "Do either of you recognize this symbol?" The sketching was rough, but a wand with a snake wrapped around it could clearly be made out.

Potters quiet yes overlapped Severus's negative reply.

Severus turned to his student. "Potter?"

Potter swallowed nervously, but he steeled himself and plowed ahead. "That symbol was the reason why I was in that whorehouse last night."

Severus's eyes narrowed. "Explain," he ordered as Lucas looked at both of them with raised eyebrows.

"Mark Miller has a recent burn scar just like that on the palm of one of his hands. I was playing a game of Catch the Miniature Snitch in the Gryffindor common room with a couple of the first year students. When he made a grab for the snitch, I saw it."

Potter gave Severus an anxious glance, a good indicator that the Gryffindor knew he should have told a teacher about the burns. "I tried to pull him aside and ask about them, but he was terrified and locked himself in his dorm room. I decided to give him some time to calm down and went to study for the N.E.W.T.'s with Hermione and Ron. He showed up in the library later on, swore us all to secrecy, then revealed that his brother had given them to him."

"His brother?" Severus was incredulous. "As in Joseph Miller?"

Potter nodded.

"I take it this is unexpected," Lucas said, glancing between the two of them.

Severus frowned. "Joseph was in Ravenclaw, graduated two years ago. He was a good student, spent too much time with his head buried in books like the rest of his House, but I'd never have suspected him of doing something like this."

"Neither did Mark," Potter continued. "He spent most of winter break alone with Joseph, as both of their parents are prosecutors for the Ministry and were working on several of the Death Eater Trials. Mark said Joseph kept disappearing at night and had forbidden him to come along or tell their parents. Curiosity got the better of him and he followed Joseph to the whorehouse I was at the other night. Joseph and a couple of larger boys grabbed him in that alleyway, burnt the mark into his hands and warned him that if he told a soul, especially his parents, they'd burn his eyes out next. Then they ordered him to go home and entered the whorehouse."

"Very out of character," Severus commented with a dark scowl. "No wonder Mark had his parents send him back from break early." He looked at Lucas. "Where did you get that sketching?"

Lucas sighed and studied the sketching himself. "From my clerk, Nora. I drew it this morning after I finished healing the burns on her hands. The young boy we scared out of the store yesterday and several teenagers jumped her as she was walking into work. She said they claimed it was punishment for interfering in their ability to carry out the 'Dark One's' orders. Gave her the burns to remind her not to do it again. Nora managed to get her wand out of her coat and cast a fog charm. She kicked her way free and ran." He looked up at Severus and Potter. "I have her staying with some trusted friends for the time being."

Severus rubbed at the tension he could feel gathering between his eyes. "Dark One," he said in disgust. "We need to find Albus and report this immediately."

Lucas nodded sadly. "I thought you'd say that. I was arranging for a port key to Hogwarts before you arrived. I'll finish the preparations for it now." He dropped the wards around the room and left, muttering that he was too old to still be dealing with Dark Lords and other such nonsense.

Potter slouched forward in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. "I thought there'd be more time," he mumbled to himself.

Severus caught the words. "More time for what, Potter?"

Potter studied his hands. "Peace. It was a good thirty years after Grindelwald's defeat that Voldemort showed up. I was hoping the next one would be similar."

"The world seldom gives us what we want," Severus said tiredly, closing his eyes. He'd thought there'd be more time too.

"Not always," Potter finally agreed quietly, "but sometimes it does."

There was something in Potter's voice that made Severus look up, meet his eyes. What he saw there caused him to hold his breath in disbelief. Potter was watching him with an intensity Severus had only seen him display when barreling down the Quidditch field after a snitch. It was a look that said he'd seen what he wanted and was going to get it. His eyes were dark, the green only a bare sliver around embracing black.

Severus swallowed, and tried to convince himself that the awkward night in the cell was messing with his head, only to be stunned when the tip of Potter's tongue actually darted out to touch his upper lip, like a snake sensing his prey. Snape could feel himself getting hard at a movement that his mind was frantically trying to label as innocent.

That thought, though, was shot down in the next moment when Potter flexed his fingers. It was a subtle movement, barely noticeable, but it sent shivers racing up Severus's spine. And it made something else click in his mind.

"You were awake!" he accused, realizing Potter must have been entirely aware of his embarrassing predicament in that cell.

Potter's cheeks stained a pale red but he stubbornly refused to look away.

That, for some reason he didn't want to examine too closely, made Severus angry. "What kind of fool game are you playing with me?" he hissed.

Potter's jaw dropped in shock, then in a blur of movement he was on his feet and towering over Severus. "Not a game!" he stated fiercely, looking like he wanted to grab a hold of his potions master and shake him into understanding. "Never a game," he continued, softer but just as intense, "not about _this_, not ever!"

Severus stared up into the tumult of emotions flashing across Potter's face and came to the sudden realization that 'this' meant something more than the physical.

"Potter?" he asked quietly.

Potter was suddenly nervous, and frustrated, and so many things Severus couldn't name, but could feel vibrating in the air between them. "I- I don't know how to put it into words. I feel--" his hand clutched at his chest as if he could pull the emotion out—"I feel for you. I don't know if its love or wishful thinking, but it's what I feel … and I need to know if it's something more. If we can be something more."

This was absolutely unbelievable. He'd had students with crushes on him before, but nothing to this extent. Severus grasped at the first, and only, coherent thought that came to his mind. "You're a student."

"Not for long," Potter shot back. "And I can wait. For _this_ I can wait."

Finding himself speechless, Severus settled on staring at Potter in disbelief.

"Think about it, please," Potter said, his eyes wide and intense, before abruptly pulling himself away. He stood in front of Severus for an awkward moment, suddenly unsure of what to do next, before retreating to the table where the puzzle was spread out.

For a long time, the only thing Severus could hear was a thick silence, so lost was he in his own jumbled thoughts. Then he became aware of small shuffling and scraping sounds that were foreign to his ear. He looked over his shoulder to see that Potter was working on the puzzle.

To his surprise, Severus found himself quietly turning his chair around to watch. Almost as if watching Potter would help him order his thoughts, make sense out of something that had him scattered all over the place.

Potter was shifting through the pieces, ordering them into groups based on similar colors. A small group had a collection of straight edges. It was progress, but only a small dent in the multitude that covered the large table. Yet Potter continued at it, unfazed by the size of the project or by the fact that he wouldn't be able to finish a fraction of it before they would have to leave for Hogwarts.

Abruptly, Potter stopped, seeker eyes focused on one particular piece, nestled between completed sections. He slowly picked it up and held it to the light, getting an up-close look. Severus squinted at the tiny piece and was shocked to realize that it was the exact piece he had been examining the day before.

Instead of placing the piece in a group, Potter held on to it, keeping it securely grasped in his right hand while his left dug through the rest.

Watching those simple actions, Severus's thoughts ordered themselves. It was a simple question. Could they be something more? Severus didn't have an answer, but Potter had made it clear he wanted to find out.

And Severus realized, to his absolute shock, he did too.

tbc...

author notes: Hope you all enjoyed and thanks for the reviews! You guys are great! To answer a quick question, this fic was posted to Dusk til Dawn several years ago as a WIP, before that fest decided to no longer accept WIP's. I don't have a link to it, as I lost all my links when my laptop decided to actually go belly up instead of merely threatening immenent death. Thankfully all my writing was on CD. But if the fest still has it, it will only be these first 3 chapters as that was as far as I had gotten when it was due. Otherwise, I don't think it's anywhere else.

With that said, this week has been horrible. Anyone have any recs for some really long Harry/Severus recs on ? WIP's are fine and even gen fics. I would love to get lost from reality for awhile.


	4. Chapter 4

**PART 4**

The portkey deposited them at the ward boundry of Hogwarts, effectively turning a two-hour walk into a ten minute one.

Lucas carefully wrapped the broken glass bottle that served as the portkey in a piece of cloth and stashed it in his robes. "Let's be on our way, it's set to take me back to the store in three hours."

The small group made the walk in silence, each busy with their own thoughts, though Severus's were admittedly on something other that the rising of another Dark Lord. He hadn't given Potter an answer, and the Gryffindor kept glancing at him as they walked, obviously wondering about his response.

Severus was wondering about his response as well. Disbelief and doubt had already set in, causing him to question his initial, impulsive decision to agree to Potter's proposal. What was he thinking? What bout of insanity had him actually considering this? And with Potter, of all people? Severus had never entertained any romantic notions of the Gryffindor before; but he did grudgingly admit that Potter was developing quite a strong and unique sense of self. Severus had always been attracted to such people, ones who went their own way, ignoring convention and public expectation. People who challenged accepted thoughts and ideals; people like Albus and Voldemort. They were people who made him think, who challenged his thoughts.

He looked up, realizing that they were fast approaching the castle. He had no time to dwell further on the situation, but one thing was for sure. Potter had said for him to think about it and that was exactly what he planned to do, at least until Potter graduated. That was one point he wasn't going to budge on. Sleeping with someone twenty years younger was one thing, sleeping with a student was a whole other issue. He might have been a Death Eater, but even he had some morals.

They were halfway up the stairs to the castle when Severus finally became aware of another set of eyes watching him. Lucas was glancing back and forth between him and Potter, his eyes bright with curiosity and growing mischief.

Severus glared. "What?"

Lucas pointedly looked at the cloak Potter was wearing, having recognized it as Severus's. With a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, he arched a questioning eyebrow.

"Not now."

"But-"

"Later!" Severus cut him off.

Lucas gave him a mildly reproachful look, but Severus held firm and the older man gave in with a slight roll of his eyes. Potter watched the whole exchange with puzzlement, but sensing the tension, he wisely refrained from asking.

They reached the top of the stairs and Severus began to push open the doors, only to pause as a sudden thought struck him. "Potter, where's your invisibility cloak?" If he'd had that blasted cloak in the first place, they wouldn't have had to spend a Friday night in that nightmarish cell.

Potter ignored him and tried to slip through the doorway. Severus stepped in front of him.

"I can't find it." Potter grimaced and tried to get around Severus again.

"Really," Severus drawled, thinking the Gryffindor wasn't being truthful. "You lost your father's invisibility cloak. I find that quite believable." His eyes narrowed as he recalled Potter's ensemble from last night. "And speaking of clothes, what on earth possessed you to wear those clothes in the first place?"

Potter mumbled something which didn't quite reach Severus's ears. "Speak up," he prodded.

The Gryffindor's head snapped up and his eyes flashed. "Hermione dared me," he said with a growl, daring Severus to make something out of it.

Severus blinked. "Miss Granger dared you?" Miss Perfect Granger dared Harry Potter to do something as reckless as that?

"Yes, she did! She," Potter's explanation was interrupted by Dumbledore opening the door the rest of the way. Potter sighed in relief.

"Ah, there you are. We were beginning to get worried," Dumbledore greeted warmly, his keen eyes settling on Lucas in curiosity.

Lucas stepped forward and introduced himself, his expression somber. "It's a great pleasure to finally meet you Headmaster. I only wish it was under better circumstances. We bear you bad tidings."

* * *

Severus felt like he'd just kicked a puppy as he watched Albus absorb and consider the information on this latest threat. It was another burden to add on shoulders that had already carried so much. Yet, at the same time, he knew that Albus would never be satisfied with dumping such a load on someone else without having at least tried carrying it himself. Severus had long suspected that Albus harbored a measure of guilt over using him as a spy, as the old wizard had no true means of shouldering that responsibility himself.

"This is disturbing news," Dumbledore finally said as he stroked Fawkes's head. The phoenix, perched on the arm of his chair, softly sang back to him, the sound soothing in the tense office.

"But at the moment, what we need is more information. Harry, I would like you to keep an eye on young Mark and make sure he encounters no more trouble."

Potter nodded seriously and Severus restrained himself from offering up the automatic snide comment that was ready to pour off his tongue. The notion of Potter keeping someone else out of trouble was completely ridiculous. The trouble would just go after Potter. Severus shifted in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable. When Potter got in trouble, it was usually of the deadly sort.

"Severus? If you would begin research on the symbol?"

He inclined his head in acceptance. "I will begin immediately."

Dumbledore turned to Lucas, but he had already guessed what the headmaster wanted. "I will keep an eye on my clientele and will notify you if I see anything suspicious."

"And I will notify the rest of the staff tonight. They will join you in your research, Severus." Dumbledore quickly made sure no one had anything left to say. "Then I think we're done for now. Lucas? May I speak with you a moment?"

Severus nearly shuddered at the request. He could just imagine what those two could find to talk about. It was time for an immediate evacuation of the office.

"Oh, and Severus?" Dumbledore called after him.

Halting less than a step from the freedom of the door, Severus grunted as Potter bumped into him. "Yes?" he asked warily.

"You might want to check on your House before you begin your research."

What was wrong with his House? Severus turned to question the Headmaster, but instead found himself face to face with Potter, who was struggling with his expression. The young man snickered mysteriously, and slipped around Severus and out of the office before he had the presence of mind to realize that the Gryffindor knew something.

"Mr. Potter!" he yelled, but Potter had already disappeared down the stairway.

Severus glared at Albus, who'd risen from his chair and was now standing at his side. "What happened?" he demanded.

"You'll see," Dumbledore said, and with little shooing motions, ushered Severus out his door.

* * *

Severus quietly entered the Slytherin dormitory, letting the noise from the ruckus in the common room mask his approach. Better to observe first before jumping into the fray. Truth was often shown before his Slytherins had a chance to bend a situation to their own ends.

It looked like his entire House had gathered in the common room. The younger years were situated around the edges of the room, watching and whispering with one another; observers. The principal players were clearly the seventh years gathered in the center.

Severus turned to them, then blinked in momentary shock at what he saw. Someone had managed to prank the seventh year Slytherin boys by turning all of them into females.

It was quite a feat of magic, without a doubt. The only way such a change could be managed, was through transfiguration spells or potions. The energy required for a transfiguration spell would be staggering to perform on all the seventh year boys, so the magic used had to be a potion. He was familiar with several and they all had to be ingested to work.

Stepping farther into the room, Severus cleared his throat. "What, pray tell, has happened here?"

Usually, his Slytherins had the good sense to quiet down when he spoke, but they had worked up a good head of steam over their humiliating situation. Complaints, yelling and finger pointing erupted immediately.

Draco, his voice incredibly shrill, naturally led the ruckus. "Potter did this, I know it! Someone had to sneak in here last night to do this; he's the only one who has an invisibility cloak!"

Severus arched an eyebrow at that, unwilling to entertain the accusation as Potter had spent the night locked in a cell with him. "Really, Mr. Malfoy. Would you mind telling me what happened to yours?" He had never seen it, but Draco was the kind of youth that had to have the very best and most expensive of anything that his peers had.

Draco's eyes widened and his mouth shut with an audible click. His House fell silent, but Severus didn't say a word. He stared at his seventh year boys, letting his silence speak his disapproval.

"Gentlemen, we need to talk," he finally said, keeping them pinned in place with his stare. "The rest of you, clear out. Now!" he barked.

There was a quick rush for the door and Severus soon found himself left with several miserable boys. He turned and headed for their room; the boys quietly fell in line behind him.

Once inside, he waited until they gathered around. "Where is the bottle?" he demanded.

When they all hesitated, he added, "Do not take me for a fool. If what you had all shared was innocent, you would have brought it to me already. As gender altering potions have to be drunk, that means you have alcohol."

Draco finally moved, unwarding his trunk and taking out the contents. When it was empty, a few taps of his wand had the false bottom opening to reveal the suspected bottle and several small shrunken trunks.

Severus watched Draco take out the bottle and repack his trunk, unsurprised at the contents of the false bottom. He knew that every Slytherin trunk had false compartments but, like Draco's, many were now filled with much more important things than trivial childhood keepsakes and secrets since Voldemort's downfall.

In the zealest quest for hunting down Death Eaters, the Ministry had begun raiding the homes of known or suspected Death Eaters, seizing anything of magical or monetary value that could be carted away as 'evidence'. Investigations and trials would drag on for years, even decades, and Severus was sure that if and when it came time to return the 'evidence', much of it would be mysteriously misplaced.

To the victors, go the spoils of war.

Many of his Slytherins' families were now destitute, relying on the pity of others. But someone, Severus suspected Draco, had been thinking and his students had returned from winter break, concealing shrunken trunks filled with whatever valuable that the Ministry didn't know to account for. Those trunks contained everything from galleons and jewels, to rare magical books and priceless magical objects.

On those few valuables, his Slytherins would be entering the world. He knew that after graduation, many would head to other lands with their parents and siblings who remained, as jobs for Slytherins were now scarce; they were all watched by wary eyes looking for sins of their fathers.

Draco handed over the bottle and Severus studied the label. It was a very fine brandy that Lucius had been fond of. It was also cloudy from the potion that had been dumped in it.

His slowly shook his head in disappointment. While alcohol was forbidden at the school, it was another matter that he was upset with. As the student trunks were obviously un-tampered with, that meant one thing. "You left this out in the open, didn't you?"

The boys refused to meet his eyes. Severus continued, his voice sharper. "You left a weakness where it could be exploited."

Shoulders hunched and a few of the boys winced.

"You all know better," Severus snapped. "As you have taken an interest in fine drink, I want ten feet of parchment on the subject." He handed the bottle back to Draco. "In particular, focus on how to distinguish quality brandy from brandy laced with a gender altering potion!"

He turned to leave before he lost his temper with the lot of them and began taking points.

"What about Potter?" Draco quickly spoke up, childishly petulant that his nemesis hadn't been punished. "And what about a counter potion? We can't stay like this!"

Severus glared at him, docked thirty points from Slytherin for his insolence and left.

* * *

In the corridor outside Slytherin House, Severus stopped to take a moment to rein in his temper. Draco had made a lot of progress once his father was out of his life, but every once in a while he slid back into that childish finger pointing which aggravated Severus to no end. Damn Lucius for handing him everything on a silver plate. Draco had such incredible possibilities ahead of him, if he just started applying himself instead of waiting for everything to be brought to him. The boy still hadn't quite figured out how to function without his father orchestrating every move.

Muttering another curse on Lucius's head, Severus continued on his way and addressed his attention to the prank. There was a simple counter potion, but if his Slytherins wanted it, they'd have to find it themselves. He had other more important things to do, and finding the solution just might teach Draco and the others a little self-sufficiency.

However, there was still the matter of locating the prankster. Potter might not have had a hand in pulling it off, but the prank had Gryffindor written all over it. There was only one student who had the capabilities to brew such a complicated potion - Hermione Granger.

Severus found the Gryffindor trio just as they caught up with each other in front of Gryffindor house. Seeing the opportunity for some eavesdropping on the troublemakers, he slunk into the shadows along the wall.

"All right there, Harry?" Weasley asked with relief as he gave Potter a friendly punch on the shoulder. "We've been looking everywhere for you. Where were you last night? And where'd you get that cloak? Looks expensive," he said as he plucked the cloth. Severus tensed, wondering what Potter's response would be. Had he even told his two friends what he felt for the much hated potions professor?

"I needed it to cover this." Potter pulled open the cloak open to reveal his ripped clothes, effectively diverting Weasley's attention. Hmm, that bit of manipulation would do any Slytherin proud.

"Blimey Harry! What happened?" Weasley exclaimed.

"I decided to check out Mark's story and got into some trouble instead."

"You what?" Granger said in disbelief. "You went there wearing that? Harry, are you nuts? Where'd you get such a stupid idea?"

Potter froze, confused. "Hermione," he said slowly. "You dared me, remember?"

"I did not," she protested indignantly, the barest quiver of uncertainty making the exclamation fall flat. She seemed to struggle with something internally, then shook her head viciously and balled her hands into fists, temper suddenly growing. Potter and Weasley traded uneasy looks.

Now, what was this about? Severus slowly edged his way through the shadows, seeking a position that would give him a better view of what was going on.

Weasley ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, you did. Thursday night at the library, Mark Miller, research, strange wicked burns, remember?"

Granger shook her head in denial, which made Weasley more determined. Severus mentally groaned and waited for the imminent explosion. "Hermione, you were there! You got all mad at me for those crappy jokes and when we got back to that game of truth or dare we've been playing all week, you dared Harry to go to the whore house dressed in leather and-"

"Uh, Ron?" Potter tugged at his friend's elbow, trying to cut him off but Granger boiled over in the most spectacular explosion of rage Severus had had the privilege to see in a long time. She cussed them out, not only for making up stories but for several other things that Severus could barely make out in the yelling. She then stomped off down the hall, her bushy hair whipping wildly behind her, leaving two stunned Gryffindors and one alarmed professor in her wake. Severus knew that Granger had a temper on her, but there was something about this explosion that was different. It was wilder … more malicious. In truth, it wasn't like Granger at all.

"Harry?" Weasley broke the ensuing silence hesitantly.

"Yes Ron?" Potter echoed back in the same quiet tone.

"Do you thinks its … you know …" Weasley gulped, then finished in a rush, "that time of the month?"

Potter scrunched up his nose. "Maybe," he said, his voice carrying the dismaying tone of men everywhere. The two traded looks, then broke out in weak, nervous laughter.

"She scares me sometimes," Weasley admitted sheepishly.

"Tell me about it. And lately," Potter shook his head. "We'd better stock up on some chocolate and make a peace offering."

"Sounds good," Weasley agreed. "Seriously though, you actually took her dare?"

Potter nodded. "I wasn't going to, but I wanted to check out Mark's story some more, see if I could find something he didn't see while he was over there. I figured why not, and managed a decent facial charm to keep the reporters away." Potter pulled at one of the rips in his shirt. "I should have brought my father's cloak, but I couldn't find it. I think the House Elves took it to clean again."

Weasley winced, and pulled the cloak from a pocket in his robes. "Sorry about that, but I had to borrow it. I forgot to return it with everything that's been going on."

"Oh," Potter said quietly, carefully taking the cloak. Severus felt no small measure of irritation with the Weasley menace. That cloak was quite possibly one of the few possessions of his parents that Potter owned. Even a cruel bastard like himself realized the value in it.

Potter, however, had a more forgiving heart. "What did you need it for?"

A wicked grin lit up Weasley's freckled face. "Remember that surprise we've been working on?"

Potter's eyes brightened. "Did it work? Dumbledore said that something had happened to the Slytherins."

"It worked like a dream! I checked on it Thursday night while you guys were still talking to Mark. It was ready and since Hermione had said there was only a limited amount of time while it was good, I borrowed your cloak, snuck in, and poured it into a bottle of alcohol Draco has hidden under his bed. Can you believe he gets away with something like that?"

Potter shook his head. "Well," Weasley continued, "they must have had some last night, because this morning Professor McGonagall had to force them to come down to breakfast!"

Laughing delightedly, Potter took a hopeful glance at the clock in the hallway. "Lunch started five minutes ago, let's see if she forces them to come down again!"

They ran right past him, oblivious to his presence. Severus barely restrained himself from stepping out of the shadows and dolling out detentions, especially to Weasley. This was one of those situations where turning a blind eye was the best course of action. His Slytherins had been careless. He also had his suspicions that Draco was the one responsible for stringing Weasley's underwear across the Great Hall. He knew his Slytherins were capable of better pranks than that. For that reason alone, he was willing to let retaliation from the Gryffindors go unpunished. He'd cover for his Slytherins when the pranks were worthy of being covered. But in the meanwhile, he'd have a word with Professor McGonagall about interfering with his students.

tbc

A/N: Sorry, this chapter is a little short, I've been trying to re-write a scene with Lucas and Severus, and they're both being uncooperative. As always, thanks for the reviews! Transgressions, MyBrainIsOnStrike, and Irihi Safaia, thank you so much for the recs. I especially have to second your guys' recs for The Marriage Stone and The Mirror of Maybe (which was awesome to revisit, I hadn't read that one in ages. I so hope she finishes it one day).

In return some recs of my own, you'll probably have to google these. Try A Year Like None Other by aspeninthesunlight for a wondefully written Snape adopts Harry story (its huge, 1000+pages and gen). If your willing to play outside the HP fandom, try the Ion Arc by Sunhawk. It's Gundam Wing, but very well written and you don't have to know the fandom to read it, also 1000+pages in length (yaoi).


	5. Chapter 5

**PART 5**

Grinning wickedly, Severus darted out of McGonagall's office, barely avoiding a curse that splattered harmlessly against the hallway wall. He loved it when he made her mad enough to ruffle her cool exterior. Severus had always likened the experience to teasing an older sister, though he would kiss Hagrid before he ever admitted it out loud. She had been in a particularly foul mood after dragging his students to lunch, and he'd been unable to let the opportunity slip past him. A few well placed words and her temper had snapped. Oh well, he'd just have to talk to her about his students tomorrow.

"There you are child," a voice called. It was Lucas, leisurely strolling down the hall as if he did it everyday. That didn't surprise Severus, as the older man had the uncanny ability to find his way in places he'd never been to before. "I wanted to speak with you before I left. Would you accompany me out?"

"Certainly," Severus agreed, shoving his amusement aside as they turned to head to the main entrance.

"Tell me about Harry Potter."

"He's a student," Severus said simply. "Read the newspapers and a couple of history books, if you-" Severus trailed off at Lucas's sly look. "What?"

"Yes, he is a student. And he's wearing your cloak."

Severus nearly stumbled, he'd been hopeful that Lucas would have missed that little detail. Yet, at the same time, a wave of anger that anyone would dare imply he had such a relationship with a student began to rise.

Lucas started to speak again, but Severus quickly made a slashing motion with his hand to prevent him from speaking. "Young ears," he warned.

Lucas huffed in exasperation but allowed Severus to lead him to the main doors of Hogwarts. Then it was a simple matter of a quick spell to erect a privacy circle around them both so they could talk.

Seeing Severus's deteriorating mood, Lucas held up his hands. "I'm not making accusations or passing judgment."

"Then what do you want?" Severus snapped, defensively crossing his arms.

"What I want," Lucas said calmly, "is immaterial. But what you want, is my concern."

Severus's eyes narrowed.

Sighing, Lucas stepped closer, laying his hands on Severus's folded arms. "Stubborn boy," he said gently. "Listen to me for a moment. Two decades I have known you, and long has your life been bent to the duty of defeating Voldemort, to teaching at this school to aid Dumbledore, to the terrible necessity of being a spy. Your duty is done; now is about want. What do you want, Severus?"

Severus blinked at Lucas, stunned. He hadn't really considered his situation in that way before. He could even quit teaching and turn to research, leave the frustrations of teaching students to someone else. Lucas was right; he'd been so wrapped up in what had to be done for so long that his wants hadn't even been considered once they were possible.

"Ah," Lucas said softly, "I see I am getting through."

"I hadn't thought," Severus began, but Lucas shook his head.

"Hush," he said. "Take some time, think. I overheard that young man talking to you in my office. He seems quite sincere and you could do much worse."

"But-"

"Hush, I said. Think, and try not to get too wrapped up in defeating another fool with delusions of conquering the world." Lucas gave Serverus's arms an affectionate squeeze and turned to go. "Be safe, be well."

Severus stood on the steps to the main doors of Hogwarts and watched his mentor leave, his mind awhirl.

* * *

There was a certain mind numbing quality to rushed research that Severus loathed. He had to stay focused to avoid accidentally glazing over some important detail, yet he also had to restrain himself from getting wrapped up in a piece that had caught his attention. It was an exercise in mental balance that was necessary, tedious and absolutely tiring.

After scanning the same page for the third time in a row, and not being able to recall any of it, Severus conceded to the fact that he needed a break. He slumped into his chair and closed his eyes, allowing the silence of the empty library to wash over him. Sleep was tugging insistently and he idly wondered how many hours he had left before dawn arrived. One? Two possibly? The other teachers had long since called it a night and drifted off to bed, leaving him alone in the cold library to continue on his own.

Lips pursed, Severus slowly flexed his fingers, trying to drive the numb ache from his joints. He tiredly considered casting a heating charm, or perhaps rubbing some of that salve onto his hands. He reached for it, then groaned as he realized the salve was still in his cloak.

As if accioed, the cloak appeared out of thin air and was draped across his open book. Surprised, Severus slammed back into his chair.

Then reason reasserted itself. "For the love of Merlin, don't do that!" His voice echoed through the large library, bouncing off walls and bookshelves.

"Sorry," a voice said, sounding completely unapologetic. "You looked like you were cold." Potter abruptly appeared, his invisibility cloak darkening into existence as he slid it off.

Severus glared at the other man as he dropped down into the seat beside him. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Just returning your cloak," Potter said, amusement lighting up his eyes as a smile quirked his lips. He waited a beat, seeming to know that Severus didn't buy his explanation. "Did you want me to return it during class?" he asked innocently.

Severus snorted and waved the suggestion off. Potter would have done no such thing.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you." Potter paused, and Severus watched as he stilled his hands, resisting the urge to fiddle with the book closest to him. "I wanted to ask you -" he started, then broke off again, struggling for a moment before Gryffindor courage reared it's head and he found the words he sought. Potter took a steadying breath and straightened in his chair, his brilliant green eyes meeting Severus's. "Severus, would you grant me the honor of courting you?"

Severus was momentarily startled before his tired mind finally made the connection. Ah. Back to this. Severus stifled a sigh. To be truthful, he'd put the matter aside, along with Lucas's advice, to concentrate on the research…which, of course, had nothing to do with the fact that he now seemed to be suffering from a dragon sized attack of avoidance. The feeling aggravated him as he wasn't able to pinpoint what was causing it. There was no reason for him to be avoiding Potter; he had decided at Lucas's that he wanted to see where a relationship could go. So why was he balking? Why was this so hard? Why him?

Severus mentally paused as that last question blazed its way through his mind, shocked at its intensity. Where had that come from?

Not that it was a bad question. Why did Potter want him? It certainly wasn't for his looks or friendly personality. What did the student see in a man who was twenty years his senior?

"Why?"

Potter blinked in puzzlement. "Why am I asking you now?"

"No, why would you seek to court me?" Severus nearly winced as he asked it. Out loud, the question sounded insecure, childlike. He stiffened, waiting for Potter to give him a hard time about it.

Potter, however, took the question seriously, his head bowed slightly in thought. None of the usual split second responses like, 'because I love you,' or 'I need you,' formed on his lips, and for that, Severus was thankful. Such lines tumbled free without thought, and Severus realized that he needed to know Potter had thought this through, that he wasn't running on some teenage infatuation that was going to die out in a few months.

"Let me ask you something first," Potter said at last, his eyes catching and holding Severus's. "Say the first thing that comes to mind and whatever immediately follows, don't think about it. Alright?"

Severus wondered if he'd regret this, what tumbled from his mouth without thought wasn't always civil. But if this was what he had to do to get an answer out of Potter, so be it. He nodded his head in hesitant agreement, willing to play this out.

Potter leaned forward in his chair, the light from the lone candle that sat on the table flickering across his face. "Who am I?"

"Harry Potter," Severus answered automatically. He blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "What kind of idiotic question is that?"

"That's all that came to your mind? No other words that immediately followed after?"

"No," Severus growled, baffled as to where this was going. "Now kindly get to the point."

Potter grinned widely. "That was the point." He hurried on before Severus could get angry with him for playing games, his face suddenly serious. "When most people see me, they see 'Harry Potter, one of the Three Great Wizards That Killed You-Know-Who' or 'Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived' or 'Harry Potter and whatever blasted title they've come up with. I am judged and sentenced solely by public whim and expectation. Hell, even you did the same thing during my first years here."

Severus heard the implied, 'And you don't do it anymore,' and fought the urge to turn his gaze away. It was no secret that he was hard on his students; but with Potter he had been doubly vicious. Children were so malleable, and Severus had been so sure that Potter would let the fame go to his head, there was no reason for it not too. And that, that absolutely could not happen, not when his life and the future of the wizarding world depended on Potter's abilities to fight and think for himself. So he had sneered and pushed, snarled and played favorites with his own house in calculated moves to constantly remind the Gryffindor that fame didn't give him a right to anything, that life wasn't fair and that he was going to have to work his ass off if he wanted to live to adulthood.

He had never misjudged a situation so badly in his life.

The truth had finally smacked him upside the head in Potter's sixth year. Severus had been giving him additional lessons and, one night, as he watched Potter fight for mastery over a complex hex while he offered infuriating commentary from the side, something finally gave. It had happened, not with screaming and anger, but in silence broken only by Potter's ragged breathing. In that moment, when Potter had simply turned to glare at him; there had been something unveiled in the Gryffindor's face that had taken him aback. Something vicious and wild, a conniving animal look that said, 'I've survived worse, I will survive you too.' Even more shocking was the realization that he'd seen that look several times before, as early as the boy's first year.

He'd missed it completely. He'd been trying to shape what was already there; someone had taught Potter about survival long before Severus Snape had got a hold of him. And Severus had to respect that, one survivor to another.

Potter was watching him with alert, intelligent eyes, seeming to know where his thoughts were straying. "But I cannot accuse you of passing judgment when I have done the same," he said softly. "'Snape, The Vampire,' 'Snape, The Death Eater,' 'Snape, The Slimy Potions Teacher'."

Severus had heard the names a thousand times before, muttered and cursed by students who didn't know or didn't care that his hearing was sharp enough to hear them. But, from Potter, there was something all the more…sharper to them, as they were said, not with hate or pity, but with true, dirty understanding.

"Yet," Potter continued softly, "we both know that while these epithets are true, they aren't the only things we are."

He reached out and cautiously laid his hand over Severus's, the touch making his skin prick with gooseflesh.

"I've been watching you," Harry admitted in a slightly quivering but determined voice, "especially when you were working on that potion for Voldemort. Somewhere along the way, I realized I liked you, liked just being near you and spending time with you, even if you didn't know I was there. Then I found you kneeling at Voldemort's feet and everything was moving so fast …and the only thing I could think was 'not yet'." Potter swallowed nervously. "I think that's when I began to realize that I wanted a… a relationship with you."

He stroked his thumb, just once, across the back of Severus's hand, then pulled his hand away. "That's why I want to court you."

Feeling off balance, Severus took a deep breath. Well, he could no longer doubt that Potter had thought this through. He steeped his fingers and silently studied Potter's face, his outward calm an armor against the turbulence that was twisting inside, trying to formulate what to say next.

Potter, however, took the matter out of his hands. The Gryffindor yawned, then offered a sheepish smile as he stood up to leave. "I think I've given you plenty to think about tonight, so I am going to bed. You will not have me looming over your shoulder while you try to think."

It was that willingness to accept, to not push, that moved Severus into action. His whole life he had manipulated and been manipulated by others, from the Marauders to Voldemort, and even Dumbledore. Without thinking further, he reached out and clasped Potter's wrist.

"Wait."

Potter paused, then retook his seat, his expression intent as he waited, letting Severus maintain his grip on him.

"Not yet, we -," Severus paused to gather his thoughts. "I need for you to understand that as long as you are a student, I can not give you an answer. These roles in our lives may be only fractions of who we are, but we are bound to them. I am still a teacher, and despite all the exceptions that could apply to both of us, you are, like all the other students here, my responsibility. It would be breaking a trust with the parents if I were to agree to a courtship with you."

Potter nodded, trying to keep his dejection hidden, but Severus could feel the flinch in the hand under his. Potter took a moment to compose himself. "I said I would wait and I will," he said seriously. A smile tugged at his lips. "I think, somewhere deep down, I knew you were going to say that."

The distinctive yowl of a cat followed by footsteps carried into the library from the hall. "Filch!" Potter swore, and hurriedly released Severus's hand to pull on his invisibility cloak. "That man has the worse timing," he grumbled, "I've got to get back to bed before Mrs. Norris points me out." He paused just before he pulled the cloak closed, one hand reaching up to stroke the back of his fingers down Severus's cheek, his eyes soft.

Then he was gone, hidden under a rustle of fabric and carried out of the library on silent feet.

Stunned and off balance, Severus slowly put on his cloak. Too much had happened today. He took a deep breath, breathing in the familiar scent of his cloak combined with the foreign musk of a body that was not his own. Severus groaned; of all things, Potter smelled like vanilla. Life wasn't fair. He clutched the cloak closer and fell asleep at the table, his last thoughts revolving around the gentle fingers of a certain green-eyed Gryffindor.

* * *

"Severus, how nice of you to join us. Sleep well?"

Severus glared at Dumbledore and took his seat at the head table with an irritable grunt. Dumbledore knew exactly how well he had slept. The old man had woken him in the library just after dawn singing the most annoying song about sunshine.

Dumbledore just smiled innocently and turned to listen to Minerva, quietly humming, "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."

Muttering hexes on all annoying old men, Severus filled his plate, his eyes darting across the hall as he checked up on the students. His gaze first fell on Potter, who looked up just in time to catch him watching. The Gryffindor smiled gently, then turned his attention back to his food, continuing a conversation with the first year seated next to him. Severus looked closer. Ah, Mark Miller. Potter was taking his responsibility to watch after the boy quite seriously.

His gaze traveled over the rest of the students, and finally settled on those from his own house. The seventh years were still all girls. It was a disappointing state of affairs, but Severus still held some hope as Draco was flipping through a stack of books as he ate. If he remembered correctly, one of the books in the pile contained the counter potion.

He had just turned to his own food when a shout broke the normal morning noise.

"Don't drink that! Everybody stop eating!"

Severus jerked his attention back to the Gryffindor table where Potter was standing, goblets of pumpkin juice in both hands. All conversation died.

"Mr. Potter? Is something wrong?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

Potter faced the teachers' table, his face serious and harsh. "Someone has poisoned the drinks."

There was a brief, tense silence … then chaos erupted in the Great Hall.

* * *

As Severus ran to Potter's side, some small part of his brain found it satisfying that even in the midst of confusion, the students still parted like water for him to pass through. The rest of his attention was divided between wondering who would try to poison the students, and listening to the attempts made to control the panic. Several teachers had amplified their voices, ordering the students back to their tables and sending others after those whom had already left the hall. Severus futilely wished Potter had exercised a little self-control and informed the teachers quietly, instead of blurting everything out loud.

"What kind of poison?" he demanded as he reached Potter's side, not bothering to ask if Potter was even sure if it was a poison. The Gryffindor was abysmal at making potions, but Severus had made damned sure he was capable of at least identifying poisons. Voldemort hadn't been above using them.

Potter handed one of the goblets to Severus. "It's Sunsbane."

A tendril of true worry wormed its way inside his chest. Sunsbane was a particularly cruel potion, one that caused intense suffering as well as death once it was completely absorbed in the body. Severus cautiously lifted the goblet and smelled it, trying to isolate which particular variation it was so he could make the cure. There was the expected odor of pumpkin juice, accompanied by the faint scent of rose petals, a component of the poison used to mask the odor of its other components.

Severus closed his eyes to better separate the other scents, seeking two in particular. There. The acidic smell of vampire ashes mixed with the sour odor of goblin blood, both odors so faint he could barely detect them. It was the most potent variation of Sunsbane. The students would have walked outside, unaware that anything was wrong, only to combust in the sunlight, burning to death the way a vampire would when thrust in sunlight.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

Severus nodded.

Potter looked ill. "I kept thinking the pumpkin juice tasted a little off, but I couldn't figure out what was wrong. It wasn't until Ron said he smelled roses and Hermione started arguing with him about imagining things that I realized it had been poisoned."

The Gryffindor hesitated, then glanced at Weasley, who was a ways down the table helping Granger calm down some frantic second years. Weasley caught Potter's look, then checked to make sure Granger was distracted. Seeing that she was, he frantically motioned for Potter to go on then turned his back to them, blocking Granger from their view.

Severus frowned at the interplay. What the hell was going on? And what in Merlin's name did it have to do with the situation at hand?

"Potter," he warned, his temper growing short.

Potter darted another unsure glance at Weasley, then spoke, his voice low enough that Severus had to strain to hear him. "There's something wrong with Hermione. One minute she's fine, the next she's angry, then shaking with fear, and she refuses to talk to us." He looked down at the goblets he still held, his voice lowering further. "I don't know what's going on, but I've got a gut feeling she has something to do with this."

Severus just stared at Potter. His statement was so surreal…

"You're serious."

"Yes."

…it could only be true. Yet why would Granger-- Severus sharply shook his head, cutting off the beginning speculation. Whys and how comes had to wait. Measures needed to be taken to protect the students until the poisoned ones could be singled out and given the antidote, and he needed to begin brewing the counter-potion.

"Severus?"

Jerked from his thoughts, he spun to meet Dumbledore's questioning gaze. "It isn't a false alarm, the poison is Sunsbane. Headmaster, it is imperative that you keep all of the students inside and away from the sun. Better yet, keep them here. Have Professor McGonagall remove the charms on the ceiling then charm the windows solid. And have--"

Dumbledore held up a halting hand. "I will see to it. I trust there is an antidote?" The question wasn't so much an inquiry for information as it was a prod for Severus to get moving and let the other teachers worry about the students. Severus recognized the question for what it was and, after warning Dumbledore about Granger and requesting that a house elf be sent to his classroom immediately, he raced to the dungeons, only pausing long enough to make sure that Potter came with him.

* * *

Why was nothing ever where it should be when he needed it? Growling, Severus slammed a cupboard door shut and yanked open another one, hastily searching through the contents. Blasted students never left his classroom the way it should be.

"What are you looking for?" Potter asked. He was pulling out cauldrons and sterilizing them with a quick cleaning charm.

"This," Severus elaborated unhelpfully as he located a small wooden box. He pulled it out and flipped open the lid, revealing numerous identical crosses, each one an inch long and dangling from a small chain. He retrieved one then put the box aside. The cross would be used to test the effectiveness of the antidote. If it was unsuccessful, the cross would feel hot to the student's touch due to the vampire component of the poison.

Severus turned and cursed as he collided with a house elf. Both the elf and the cross tumbled to the floor.

"Dobby is so sorry Professor Snape! Dobby did not mean to be in Professor Snape's way. Dobby is-"

Severus glared as Dobby picked up the cross, offering a continual litany of apologies. The house elf moved to hand it back, but upon seeing the scowl on his face, cringed, and edged closer to Potter's side.

"Harry Potter, sir! It's good to see you," Dobby rambled as he offered the cross to Potter instead.

Bemused, Potter took the cross only to yelp and drop it. "That's hot!"

Severus stared, suddenly remembering Potter's words from earlier, that the pumpkin juice had tasted off. He had been so caught up in everything else that he hadn't realized that Potter was poisoned as well. 'How the hell could he have missed something as important as that?' he thought, angered at himself and worried.

"Don't."

Potter's hand fisted in the fabric at the shoulder of Severus's robes, anchoring him. "Don't," the Gryffindor repeated. "Nothing to be done for it but to cure it," he said pragmatically.

Seeing Potter's determined face, Severus got a grip on himself. Then he pulled out of Potter's grasp.

Potter waited patiently.

"You have the damnedest luck," Severus finally said, taking a steadying breath.

Potter just gave him a lopsided smile. "What do you want me to do next?"

Severus thought for a second. "Set up five of the cauldrons to boil water." He arched an eyebrow. "I can trust you to do that without messing it up, can't I?"

Potter grinned at the sarcasm and busied himself with the cauldrons.

Severus watched him for a moment, then turned his attention to Dobby, who hesitantly offered him the cross again, his eyes big and ears drooping slightly. The house elf obviously thought that whatever had happened was his fault.

Sighing in exasperation, Severus took the cross and pocketed it. "You're not in trouble. I need you to tell me everything you know about the school's pumpkin juice."

"Pumpkin juice?" The house elf perked up.

"Yes. From where is it obtained? How is it shipped? Who handles it or comes in contact with it? How is it served?"

Dobby thought for a second. "It's bought in Hogsmeade in wooden barrels Professor Snape, sir. House elves use five barrels a day, one for each table in the Great Hall. Only house elves open the barrels, but Dobby has seen students sneak in and help themselves."

"Have any of the students been in there recently?" Severus asked, thinking immediately of Granger.

"Dobby does not know sir, Dobby works in the laundry room this week."

"Ask the other elves and let me know immediately if you find something out. Also have the school's barrels brought here, I need to run some tests on them. And under no circumstances are any more barrels to be opened until I give the go ahead. Understood?"

"Understood Professor Snape, sir!" Dobby said, then disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

Severus sighed and silently watched as Potter set one of the cauldrons above an open flame, preparing his mind for the task ahead. There was no room for errors in brewing a potion this complicated. If he messed up, he could lose the one person that might actually want him for who he was.

* * *

It was in his dungeons that Severus found his peace.

When he permitted himself, he could become lost in the intricacies of potion brewing, paying no heed to time beyond the number of minutes or hours necessary to complete a stage in the brewing process. Time in relation to the rest of the world had no meaning, and consequently, he often inadvertently isolated himself from normal everyday activities.

This behavior often led to some erroneous assumptions, the popular one being that he hated everyone and only emerged from his dungeons to terrorize students. Not true. He didn't hate everyone; he just didn't suffer fools and took a wicked enjoyment in introducing them to their folly.

It wasn't his fault that a majority of the school population consisted of fools. Fools, Gryffindors especially, that hated him and his dungeons; and avoided both at all costs - which didn't bother him in the slightest.

So, it was with some surprise that Severus realized that Potter fitted into his dungeons the way a final ingredient completed a complicated potion. Potter, in whose wake followed chaos, moved about the tables full of glass beakers and delicate equipment like he was in his second home. Or maybe his first. He was silent and unobtrusive, gathering ingredients, setting up equipment or merely sitting out of the way and watching.

As the day went by and Severus worked, he slowly came to the realization that he liked having Potter there. Liked the way Potter's presence was comfortable, how it seemed to spread out and embrace the room, filling spots and spaces that had been familiar only in their emptiness.

Yet, there was something off with Potter, a subtle alley cat edge to his presence, that waiting for the boot out the door. It was like Potter was once again under his Invisibility Cloak, there but not quite all the way, believing that if he was confronted, the issue made words and hence inescapable, he would have to leave.

And yet, that idea was absurd, as was not Severus the one who had brought him in here? Did Potter really believe that he had lurked in the dungeons that long, had even graded Severus's papers, and yet had gone unnoticed?

Or was this a subconscious insecurity that was finally breaking its way through Potter's brave facade? Maybe a fear of not being wanted? But that seemed absurd as well. Who wouldn't want the Boy Who Lived?

Severus mulled over this issue as he worked, sometimes even to the possible detriment of the antidote as he found his attention wandering at moments when he needed it focused. Towards evening, he finally acknowledged that he would have to confront Potter, or risk error at the final and most delicate stage in the antidote brewing process.

The five cauldrons were currently at a simmer and could stay that way a while longer, as at this step the liquid was fairly stable. It was when he added the mixture of garlic and powdered dragon scales, the main components to purge the vampire blood, that things would become dangerous. The mixture had to be added in precise amounts every ten minutes and carefully stirred. If he added too much, the antidote would become unstable and explode, or if he added it too late, the mixture would not dissolve and would instead settle at the bottom of the cauldron, useless.

It would be a stressful four hours of work that he would rather have done with, but first he needed to remove his mental distractions. He needed to talk to Potter.

Quietly, Severus turned away from his work, dropping some cleaning rags into a bucket to be taken care of later. On the other side of the room, Potter resealed the last barrel of pumpkin juice, then manhandled it up against the walls with the other barrels where they would be out of the way. The empty barrels from the day before and the unopened barrels for the rest of the week had tested negative. But the five used today had all tested positive for the poison; he was going to have to administer the antidote to everyone who'd had pumpkin juice, which naturally covered the majority of the school.

He sighed; disasters at Hogwarts were never small.

Dobby's information gathering had been useless. Students and teachers visited the kitchen at all hours, and the house elves often left it completely unattended while taking care of other chores. As the rest of Hogwart's pumpkin juice supply was clean, that also ruled out tampering at the suppliers. So, while none of the elves had seen anyone tampering with today's barrels, there was a real possibility that someone in the school had done exactly that. Their culprit was either in house or had easy access to the school.

Potter, finished with the barrels, was now on his hands and knees, his head and shoulders inside a supply cupboard searching for Severus's supply of powdered dragon scales. Throughout the day Potter had fallen back on the muggle way of doing things, physically searching for equipment, manhandling barrels. Severus knew it was Potter's way of releasing frustration and worry without getting on his nerves. But he was in for a long search if he believed he was going to find the powdered dragon scales with any ease. It was one of Severus's more expensive ingredients, and he kept it shrunk and warded in a false wall at the back of the cupboard. The cupboard itself was expanded on the inside, wide enough to hold the many ingredients, yet still able to fit one or even two adults searching for ingredients.

He walked over, intending to help Potter, but instead found his eyes straying over the way Potter's robes draped his body. The black cloth pulled tight across the width of shoulder then flowed down the length of back only to curve and teasingly suggest the shape of hip and ass before chastely falling to the ground.

Realizing the turn his thoughts had taken Severus hesitated, fighting his ingrained habit of pushing such thoughts aside. Potter wasn't just another student ripening into adulthood, a natural and alluring change that teachers learned to note, then ignore, if they wanted to keep their careers intact. For when Potter graduated he was no longer forbidden fruit, and Severus would be free to take his --. He pulled up short. What was the correct appellation for Potter?

Lover?

He rejected that one immediately. Lover was a term that never achieved the everlasting greatness that literature attributed to it. Lovers were brief and unlasting; ultimately ending up as fond or bitter memories that haunted his bed at night. He was selfish enough to admit he wanted more than that.

Significant other, or partner maybe? He briefly played with both of those, then dismissed them both. The former was a term rooted in political correctness, and the later … the later sounded like a business arrangement.

Severus caught himself. This train of thought was off track and getting nothing accomplished.

Potter shifted farther into the cupboard, muttering under his breath.

"What did you say?" he asked from over Potter's shoulder, unintentionally spooking him.

Anyone else would have bumped their heads, swore, then backed out and glared at him. Yet Potter scrambled inside, quickly pulling himself into the far corner. He was curled up like he'd been in the prison cell, seemingly smaller than he really was.

Thrown off balance by the unexpected reaction, Severus slowly knelt in the opening, knowing in is gut that he had stumbled upon something significant.

"What was that?"

Potter unfolded a little and let out a shaky breath. "Jeez, you scared me," he said as he leaned forward, attempting to push by Severus. Severus refused to move.

"You haven't answered my question."

The Gryffindor became defensive. "What? You startled me, that's all."

"Startled people scream, they jump, they run. They do not pull themselves into corners."

Potter flinched as if struck. "That's none of your business," he spat.

Oh really? Severus stared at him for a long moment, not pushing, but not giving way either. "Is it not, Harry?" he finally asked, keeping his voice quiet and low, non-threatening.

Potter said nothing. His eyes were hidden by the reflection of light in his glasses, leaving Severus lost as to what might be going through his head.

Then with a sigh, he held out his hand. Severus slowly took it, letting Potter pull him inside until they were sitting side by side looking out. Solemnly, Potter reached out and pulled the door shut, casting them into darkness.

Seconds passed, then minutes, the silence unbroken. The strangeness of the situation, that he was sitting in a supply cupboard in the dark, never crossed Severus's mind. There was an undercurrent in the darkness that he dared not disturb. It was a weight heavy and deep, a soul hurt being birthed into words.

Eventually Potter spoke, his voice slow, even. "You know I live at the Dursley's house. What do you know about them?"

"They're muggles, related to you through Lily." He thought for a moment. "You never leave for Christmas, so I'd assume that you're not close."

Potter laughed, a hollow, bitter laugh, and Severus could feel him shifting his weight in the dark. "No, definitely not. There's three of them. Dudley's an overweight bully and the center of his own universe. He's my cousin," he added for Severus's benefit. "I think you'd assign him detention, something like yard work, just to give him some exercise."

A smirk tugged at Severus's mouth, it was something he'd do.

"There are days I'd like nothing better than to hex him." Potter admitted, then his voice softened, carrying a trace of pity. "Yet, he is what my Uncle and Aunt have raised him to be; selfish, ignorant, cruel. He's so dependent on them … parasitic. Once they're gone …reality will eventually crush him." Potter gave a bitter snort. "Isn't that something? I hate his guts but I worry about his worthless hide."

Severus didn't say anything. It was a sad assessment for anyone starting out in life, but he had experienced too much to doubt its accuracy. Potter tended to have an insight on people that rivaled Dumbledore's when he chose to use it.

"Aunt Petunia," Potter continued quietly, "is full of biting words. And running. I don't know why, but it feels like she's never still, her whole body fluttering like a bird in a trap. She's so caught up in Uncle Vernon and Dudley that I don't think she has any idea who she is anymore. And Uncle Vernon," Potter abruptly cut himself off and, for a long time, said nothing more.

"What about your Uncle?" Severus finally prompted gently, sensing that he was the center of Potter's hurt.

"I'm not sure," Potter said slowly. "Sometimes I'd say he's only full of rage. But beneath that I think he's desperate. His world has to operate the way he thinks it should, or it's out of control. That scares him … I scare him. My being a wizard was not something he could control or get rid of. So he…hid me, as much as he could."

Hide a child. Ugly possibilities began to form in Severus's thoughts.

Potter shifted again, now sitting so their shoulders were pressed together. "At the Dursley's, there is a cupboard under the stairs, much smaller than this one. When Vernon didn't want to see me he pushed me in there … and when he wanted me to do something he pulled me out. There was a latch on the outside. I could never do this-"

Potter leaned forward and Severus could hear the sound of fingers pushing against wood. The supply cupboard's door swung open, spilling light on Potter's strained features. "It was my room for ten years."

Severus stared at him in shock.

Potter turned and didn't quite meet his eyes. There was shame on his face. "For a second, I thought you were him. He never hurt me, but I got sick of being jerked in and out. If I pulled myself into the far corner, he couldn't reach me as he was too fat to fit through the door."

Severus flashed back to the prison cell, remembering Potter curled against him. He must have also slept curled up in that corner so his uncle could not reach him while he dreamed. Anger slowly stirred within Severus, not the usual quick flash of temper, but a deep seated burning rage. He needed to pay a personal visit to the Dursleys.

"Don't bother."

Severus forced the red from his vision. "What?"

"Don't bother," Potter repeated. "He's not worth it. They didn't want me and I no longer want a thing to do with them."

His face was brave, a mask to cover turmoil. Severus could feel shivers racing through Potter, his muscles clenching as he tried to hide them.

Severus reached over and cupped the back of Harry's neck. "That does not mean that it doesn't hurt."

The mask slowly crumpled and Potter moved into his arms, burying his face against his shoulder. Severus held him close and let him purge his hurt. Some wounds had to be torn open and laid bare before healing began. They left scars …but only then, could they truly be lived with.

* * *

Harry's hurt eventually gave way to sleep. For a long moment Severus didn't move, content to listen to Harry's deep and even breathing, to feel the warm, trusting weight curled against him. But duty pressed, and he had a potion to finish.

Severus slowly shifted free of Harry's weight, feeling uneasy as a deeply ingrained part of him rebelled at the thought of just leaving Harry on the floor of the cupboard, especially after Harry's revelations. Yet there was no couch in his lab or office where he could move the young man, and Severus was reluctant to move him to another room, out of earshot.

He settled on a compromise. Pulling out his wand, he transfigured a stool near the cupboard door into a pillow. He placed it inside, and carefully maneuvered Harry's head down on to it as he slipped out of the cupboard. Harry gave a grunt of discontent but did not wake.

Severus stood, suddenly aware of the chill that gathered in the dungeons at night. He retrieved his cloak and covered Harry with it, letting out a small snort of amusement. He should just give Harry the cloak, the other man was getting more use out of it than he was.

Shaking his head at his own nonsense, Severus liberated the dragon scale powder from its hiding place and stood, directing his attention to the final brewing stage.

* * *

Four hours later, Severus upended the last measuring spoon and watched silently as the mixture dissolved in the boiling solution as he stirred. The contents of the cauldron turned bright yellow, matching the contents of the other four finished cauldrons. So far, so good. The color of the potion was a fairly accurate indicator of its success.

The only thing left to do was administer it, a task that made him uneasy. On an intellectual level, Severus knew the antidote was correct. But intellect had a difficult time quenching the suspicious, experienced part of him that whispered that if things could go wrong, then they would.

He measured out one dose of the Sunsbane cure in a cup, then diluted it with water to make the thick potion easier to swallow. Pausing, Severus stared at the contents of the cup, once again trying to pinpoint a possible motivation for poisoning an entire school. The act of a lunatic, perhaps? Or was it an attack on a single individual? He glanced at the cupboard where Harry was now curled on his side, glasses tilted at a crooked angle on his face. Severus spared a small thought to chastise himself for forgetting to remove them; it was an obvious thing he shouldn't have missed.

He watched Harry sleep for a moment longer, then glared at the antidote as if it was responsible for his distraction. What was he missing here? Was someone trying to kill Harry …or perhaps one of the other students? If this was so, then why? Maybe a simple case of revenge for Voldemort's downfall?

Severus pondered that. Possible, but he didn't think so. The Death Eaters who had survived and escaped were notorious for their egos. For them, revenge would be obvious, and they would have made it clear the revenge was for their fallen lord.

No, this was something separate from Voldemort.

Was it possible that this new Dark Lord they were worried about was responsible?

Severus frowned. It was possible, but he had too many questions and not enough information to begin formulating answers.

Shoving his thoughts aside, he set the cup aside to cool, then went about the process of cleaning up his worktable. There wasn't much to do as he usually cleaned as he worked, closing and removing ingredient jars once they were no longer needed, and disposing of left over material. He worked like this, not from a meticulous need to keep things in order, but from a habit developed with safety in mind. If there was an accident, then there was just one less possible ingredient for a potion gone wrong to react with.

Before long, everything was clean and in its proper place. Severus could delay no longer. Feeling apprehensive, he picked up the cup and knelt beside the open cupboard, using his free hand to gently shake Harry awake. The Gryffindor groaned and slowly sat up, rubbing blood shot eyes. Severus waited until he seemed more aware of his surroundings, then handed over the cup.

Harry eyed the contents. "So this is it?"

Severus nodded. "Drink up. I suggest you do it quickly, I doubt it tastes pleasant."

Harry curled his lip in disgust, but tossed it back quickly. "That's horrid!" he gasped, shoving the cup back at Severus.

"It's a cure, not candy," he said dryly. He held out a hand to help Potter from the cupboard.

"I know, I know," Harry said, accepting the offered help. He handed Severus the cloak with a small grin, then his expression fell. He looked away, not quite meeting Severus's eyes. The older man could see an apology coming.

"Don't," he warned.

Harry's head jerked up and he paused, masculine pride that wanted to explain away a moment of perceived weakness warring with the desire to pretend that he hadn't fallen apart. Severus knew all about denial of emotions and hiding weakness. It was the stuff that was shoved deep inside where it was allowed to fester with little chance of lancing.

What wasn't talked about, killed. Over the years, he had lost students who had been unable to struggle against their demons any longer. Children who had been raped, abused, neglected.

Children that could have been helped if they had spoken up, talked to a teacher. Saved if he had looked a little closer, seen some hint that even Dumbledore had missed.

Harry could have easily been one of those children.

"Don't apologize for pain caused by others," he said quietly. "Don't ever apologize for what you feel." He tilted his head and asked a question that had been bothering him as he worked. He voice was harsh, upset at his needing to ask such a question. "Harry, why didn't you tell us what they were doing to you?"

Harry blinked, taken back by Severus's ferocity and he fumbled for words. "What, I, there was nothing I could, damn it! It would have been worse! Where would I have gone?" he shouted, before controlling his voice. "A wizard family? The Weasleys couldn't afford to take me in! And even with my popularity, no one else would have taken me in for fear of Voldemort. Severus, they were bad, I'm not making excuses for them, but the house was warded by family blood and even I know it was easier to hide me in the muggle world than anywhere else."

Severus scowled. Truth was bitter and Harry had several valid points. But valid points didn't make any of it justifiable or acceptable. Something would have been done, if they had only known.

Harry stepped closer and took Severus's hand in both of his. "It's over with. I never have to return there again."

Severus looked down. Harry had strong, broad hands. Warm hands, callused with work. He was teeming with life, but Severus could not deny that beneath his logic, he was deeply worried. Harry had ripped open a deep, personal wound a few hours ago, and Severus wanted it properly attended.

He sighed. "Harry, can you honestly say that not returning there is going to lay everything to rest?"

Harry's expression turned bitter and he turned his face away. "No," he eventually admitted.

Now for the hard part. "Would you be willing to go to counseling?"

Harry was horrified. "It would be all over the newspapers!"

"Yes it probably would be. But as such information is confidential, most of the public would assume that it's a delayed reaction to Voldemort. Or you could disappear after graduation and use a muggle psychologist."

The suggestion of counseling was obviously distasteful, but Severus could see he was honestly thinking about it. After a moment, Harry took a deep breath, released it, then bowed his head. "I will, if... will you help me?"

Severus felt the need for some levity, and arched an eyebrow. "Would I have suggested it if I hadn't planned on doing so?"

"No," Harry chuckled, knowing that Severus didn't suggest anything if he didn't plan on carrying it through himself.

Thankful that that matter was settled for the moment, it was time to take care of another. Severus retrieved the small cross from his pocket. "Let's see if our efforts were in vain."

"It'll work," Harry said with confidence and held out his hand.

Severus paused, unexpectedly moved by Harry's surety. "You have too much faith."

"No," Harry said seriously. "I just have faith in the right people." Before Severus could react, Harry scooped the cross from his hand. Severus froze, that suspicious, illogical part of him fully expecting the worst.

The cross laid harmless on Harry's palm.

"See? It worked," Harry said with a knowing grin.

Severus shook his head in exasperation. "Reckless Gryffindor," he growled.

Harry just threw back his head and laughed. Severus found the sound beautiful.

Tbc...

_I hope you all enjoyed, I made this chapter several pages longer to apologize for taking so long. My comp is shared with several other people who've had priority use due to term papers. Can't wait till I've scraped up enough money to buy my own laptop._


	6. Chapter 6

**PART 6**

After successfully brewing a complicated antidote, it was too much to ask that the administration of said antidote proceeded smoothly.

In retrospect, Severus knew he should have expected problems. Lock a school's population in a single hall on their day off, and it was a foregone conclusion that tempers were frayed. Add in the fact that they had also been poisoned, and you had an atmosphere teeming with fear and stress. Emotions were running high, and Severus knew that he should be patient.

Of course, for Severus, patience and students were distant friends, especially when said students were fighting. It was giving him a migraine. This time it was a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw. They had shoved each other into a table, nearly overturning one of the cauldrons containing the antidote.

"Enough!" Severus yelled, and grabbed the two squabbling first years by the back of their collars, pulling them apart. "Explain yourselves before I have you both expelled!"

Mr. Balthasar Cooper, armed with the reckless courage of the Gryffindors and a propensity for causing trouble, took the initiative. "She called me a mudblood!"

"He pulled my hair!" Jessica Gordon of Ravenclaw shot back.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Liar!" Balthasar stuck out his tongue.

"You did too!" Jessica took a swing at the Gryffindor.

"For the love of Merlin!" Severus broke them apart again and firmly sat them down on a bench. He shoved a cup of antidote in each set of hands. "Drink," he ordered. "And for such infantile behavior you will both spend the next two weeks helping Hagrid clean out the cages for his entire menagerie."

Horrified disgust washed across both their faces. Severus smirked, feeling a little better.

"Now Professor Snape, is that really necessary?" McGonagall broke in, having overheard the punishment. "It's nearly three in the morning, we're all exhausted and --" She broke off, taking a good look at the two troublemakers. Severus watched with interest. It was no secret among the faculty that McGonagall swore Mr. Cooper was out to turn her hair gray with all his antics; though how that differed from Harry Potter, Severus couldn't tell.

"Well, Mr. Cooper," McGonagall said and seemed to stand a little straighter as she peered down her nose. "Perhaps, I was a little hasty. I'm sure that Professor Snape's punishment is too lenient for the crime." She turned abruptly and left in an angry swish of robes.

Intrigued, Severus watched her leave. What was the boy doing that ruffled her fur so badly? He turned to the boy, his expression making it clear he wanted an explanation.

Cooper rolled his eyes. "All I did was get sorted into her house," he groused, then pinched his nose and chugged down the antidote. He quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and handed Severus the cup.

"Wonderful stuff" he said with a straight face. "You should sell it." Then without further ado, he slid off the bench and elbowed his way through the crowd of first and second year students still waiting their turns at the antidote.

Cheeky brat, Severus thought, irritated yet amused. Minerva deserved him.

He took the opportunity to briefly scan the large hall. Everything was in as much order as could be expected. The line for the older students was almost finished, despite the bickering between Harry and Draco, who were measuring and handing out the antidote. Severus mused that he should at least be grateful that Draco was male again. With the elves fetching ingredients, he had managed to brew the counter potion and return the seventh year Slytherin boys to their proper selves.

Severus turned to take the cup from Jessica, who had her brow furrowed and was rubbing intently at the palm of her hand.

Severus frowned. "What's wrong?" he asked, wondering if she was having a reaction to the antidote.

Jessica shrugged and abandoned rubbing for scratching with her thumbnail. "Dunno," she said, not looking up. "I just saw it. I thought it was an ink stain but it's not coming off."

Strange, Severus thought. Student ink was made with several ingredients that made it easy to rub off skin or wash off robes.

"Let me see," he said.

She held out her hand, fingers spread so he could clearly see her palm. Severus stared for a moment, then barely refrained from cursing out loud.

In the center of her palm was a faint blue image, blurred but unmistakable to his informed eyes. It was a wand with a snake wrapped around it.

The new Dark Lord's symbol. Severus crushed the desire to rub at his developing migraine and wished he could go lie down. It looked like they now knew who was responsible for poisoning the students.

"What's the matter?" Jessica asked, catching his pained expression.

"Nothing," Severus lied. He needed to talk to Dumbledore immediately. "Don't concern yourself with such triviality. Get out of here."

She shot him a wide eyed, disbelieving look but took the opportunity to flee. The next student in line approached him warily. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Severus? Could you spare a minute?" Dumbledore asked, suddenly appearing at his elbow. Both Harry and Mark stood behind the Headmaster, Harry with a weary expression while the young boy looked on the verge of panic. Mark was standing as close to Potter as he could possibly get without actually climbing into his robes with him.

Severus didn't feel one bit of surprise over their sudden appearance. If anyone would notice something wrong before he did, it would be Dumbledore and Potter.

"In the hallway?" Severus suggested.

"I think that would be best," Dumbledore agreed, his face grave and so very old.

Severus looked at the first years still waiting in line, all watching with rapt attention. Rumors and wild theories would be rampant as soon as he was out of sight.

Severus glared. "Don't go anywhere."

* * *

It was like looking at a double image, Severus thought as he studied the boy's palm. There was the pale pink scar of the burn, shadowed by the same ink smudge that he had seen on Jessica.

"Potter?" he asked.

"Me too," the Gryffindor answered the unspoken question, briefly holding his palm out so Severus could see the mark. Unlike the smudged marks on Jessica and Mark, his was dark and clearly delineated.

"Theories, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. "Was this part of the poison?"

Severus slowly shook his head, eyes narrowing. "Sunsbane is a fairly unstable poison. The research alone to bring about any changes in it would be costly and time consuming. It's more probable that the purgative properties of the antidote are driving this mark to the surface."

"Is there any way to remove it?" Harry asked.

"Until I know more about it, no. At the moment it appears fairly harmless, but blindly attempting to remove it could activate it, whatever it is."

"Very well," Dumbledore said, pausing to give Mark a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. The boy was white with worry. "If you would Severus, return to your research at the library. I will oversee the rest of the potion distribution."

"Dose everyone, even those who don't drink pumpkin juice," Severus said. "Record their reactions; I need to know how wide spread this is."

"Of course," Dumbledore said, a twinkle of tolerant humor in his eye. Severus gave an exasperated sigh. He was more tired than he thought; telling Dumbledore how to gather research data was like telling Potter how to be a seeker.

Speaking of Potter, he seemed to find this exchange amusing. Severus gifted Harry with a halfhearted glare and stalked off, heading for the relative safety of the library.

* * *

Hmm, this is familiar, Severus thought sarcastically, as he flipped through the last pages of his book. Only this time he had company. Once the antidote had been given out, the professors and some of the older students had joined him in the library to help as Dumbledore had decided to cancel classes for Monday. Severus was now of the opinion that the old saying "many hands makes work light' was full of shit. There was no organization to this impromptu research party; people searched through whichever books caught their attention. The result of this was that some books were searched several times, while other books were constantly overlooked.

Severus shut his own book, "Symbols in Dark Magic," which was more idiot speculation than actual fact, and reached for the scroll from Dumbledore that a house elf had just left at his table. It contained the Headmaster's observations on the marks and those bearing them. He unrolled the scroll, exhaustion and low level frustration making his movements a little harsher than usual. Potter, sitting in the chair beside him, gave him a brief glance and a small, sympathetic smile before returning to his own book.

Severus studied the data, occasionally muttering a spell to reorganize the information so he could look for any patterns that could provide a clue. Every single student and teacher at the school had the mark to some degree. Severus frowned and tapped the scroll with his wand, rearranging the data according to the darkness and clarity of the mark.

Well, that was interesting. The lightest marks started in the first and seconds years, becoming darker as the students became older. The teachers and several of the students, including Granger and the smartest seventh year students from each house, had the darkest marks. There were exceptions among the teachers; Hagrid, Madame Hooch, Filch and Trelawney had light marks like the younger years.

Severus quickly drew several conclusions based on the above data. First, in whatever way they were receiving this mark, it was obvious that it affected everyone in Hogwarts. It was even possible that previous students may have it. Secondly, the mark seemed to be stronger in individuals who had more intellectual leanings or had more education. It was as if they did something or went somewhere that caused the mark to be darker. But where? How?

He rolled up the scroll and placed it to the side. The data was helpful to a degree, but it offered nothing in the way of identifying the source of the mark. Severus glanced at his own mark, he too had taken the potion, and entertained the brief thought that it made Voldemort's dark mark look like a gray smudge. Hopefully, that wasn't an indicator of this new Dark Lord's magical strength.

Severus mentally set that thought aside with the scroll, and snatched a book off of Potter's pile, comfortably invading the Gryffindor's space without a second thought.

* * *

Monday morning passed in a haze of books, and as lunch approached, Severus knew he was reaching the end of his limits. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep since Thursday, and exhaustion was making him lethargic. He couldn't even take a Pepper Up potion; he'd used it so many times while trying to teach, spy, and research, that last year after finals he'd woken up in the hospital wing recovering from an overdose. He'd been taking larger doses of the potion to get what he needed done, and the potion had built up in his system until it had damn near given him a heart attack.

It was one of his more humiliating moments.

He decided he wasn't going to add to his lengthy humiliation list by falling asleep in a library full of his students. He added another book to the reject pile to be reshelved, and looked around. The number of students had thinned out, heading to the Great Hall for lunch, or to their rooms to sleep. Even Harry had disappeared with his friends. Severus decided they had the right idea. He'd report his lack of progress to Albus, grab some lunch, then head to his rooms for some badly needed sleep.

"Professor Snape?" a voice stuttered.

Severus turned his head and sighed. "What is it Longbottom?"

The lanky Gryffindor swallowed nervously and set his armload of books in front of Severus. "I think I found something."

Surprised, Severus glanced at the spines of the books, scanning the titles. There were books for herbology, runes, dark magic, and even a book on advanced potions making that he hadn't read since he was a child. They were all old books, some probably dating back to the beginning of Hogwarts. Yet Severus couldn't see what they had to do with the mark. He looked back to Longbottom, who clearly expected him to see some sort of answer.

"I'm waiting," he said, arching an eyebrow.

"Look," Longbottom said with worried uncertainty, pointing to the top of one book's spine where wizard publishing companies typically placed their trademark symbol.

Severus stared. There, in gold ink and half an inch in size, was a wand with a snake wrapped around it. Their mysterious dark mark, right in front of their faces the whole time. All the books Longbottom held bore the symbol.

"The inside cover pages say they're published by Serpent Publishing," Longbottom said quietly.

Severus shook his head in disbelief; Longbottom had actually found something. He looked up at the nervous student, then did something that he had never done in all his years of teaching. He smiled and awarded twenty points to Gryffindor.

* * *

"A publishing company?" Dumbledore asked as he poured Severus a cup of tea. "That's…quite unexpected."

"Indeed," Severus said, thinking of his own expectations for the mark. "Minerva is currently looking up information on Serpent Publishing, but it may be some time before she finds anything of use. The books Longbottom found were several centuries old."

Severus leaned back in his chair, grateful for once that Albus kept plush chairs in his office. Between the night in jail and a night spent hunched over books, his back was getting ready to disown him. He wasn't a young man anymore.

"I've kept an eye on Ms. Granger as you suggested Severus," Albus said. "There does seem to be something off in her behavior. Several times while we were in the Great Hall yesterday, it appeared as if she was on the verge of a rage."

Severus nodded. "I've seen it. Potter and Weasley are convinced that it has something to do with this new Dark Lord, but beyond having the mark that we all have, there is no proof yet of something more." He paused as something significant suddenly occurred to him. "She wasn't in the library today. Potter sat by me, and Weasley fetched books for everyone, but I didn't see Granger at all. That 'little miss know it all' would have been the first one to help."

"That's not nice, Severus," Albus admonished. "But you're correct. Her behavior is quite out of character. The house elves tell me she stayed in her dorm room and argued with several of her dormmates." Albus looked faintly troubled.

Severus sipped his tea. "There's nothing that can be done for her at the moment," he said pragmatically.

"No, there's not," Albus agreed with a sigh. "For now, though, we'll keep Ms. Granger under observation. Despite the suspicions that she may be responsible for the poisoning, she has done nothing besides display some extreme teenage irritability, though I will grant that it is atypical for her. This Dark Lord seems to have a good deal of access to the children of this school. I want to know more before we act."

Severus merely nodded in agreement. It was a sensible plan; know the enemy before you fight it. You'd have a better chance of coming out alive.

"And now, I believe we are missing lunch," the Headmaster said, his mercurial nature coming to the fore as he switched from a strategizing general to a happy, mischievous old man. He waved his hand and a small feast of sandwiches and fruits appeared on his desk.

Albus passed him a plate of sandwiches and Severus grabbed two. Albus waited until he had a mouthful then said, quite innocently, "Rumor has it that Harry Potter seeks your companionship."

Severus froze but didn't even bother to act surprised. He'd been half expecting this conversation and he was certain he knew the source of this so called rumor. He swallowed, then calmly said, "Lucas has a big mouth."

The old man's eyes twinkled. "Your mentor mentioned nothing of the sort to me. It was, in fact, Mr. Potter himself."

Severus paused in his meal, momentarily surprised, then realized Albus had just knocked him off guard again. He decided to be difficult just for his own petty satisfaction. "Considering your source and the subject of the rumor are the same, you can hardly call your information a rumor."

Albus refused to rise to his attempt to mislead the conversation, and waited patiently. Severus rolled his eyes and stubbornly finished a sandwich before relenting.

"Yes," he finally confirmed. "For reasons that I still can't fathom, Mr. Potter seems to desire me as a companion," he finished softly. He paused, then mentally wrapped his tongue around the description, feeling it out, probing it for the sharp edges and rough spots that would annoy him the way terms such as lover and partner did. The word sat gently in his mind, comfortable and non-threatening. For the first time, Severus really looked at this budding relationship with Harry, and he could actually see them together. See them as companions. For wasn't Harry a companion in his life in so many ways already? He was a comforting presence in his lab, a helper when Severus was overworked, and a comrade in arms who willing stood at Severus's side and fought. The step to intimate companion in his bed and in his life was not that far fetched.

"Severus?"

Severus blinked, slowly realizing that the Headmaster had called his name several times already. He looked up from his plate to see Albus's eyes dancing in merry amusement.

"Deep thoughts, Severus?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "I'm so glad I can amuse you," he said with mild sarcasm.

Albus laughed. "One of the many reasons I keep you around."

He snorted, then said seriously. "So, Potter spoke with you."

Albus smiled gently. "He was quite determined to make sure that his pursuing a relationship with you after graduating would in no way threaten your employment here."

"Preemptive strike," Severus murmured in quiet admiration. There were times that Potter could be quite Slytherin in his actions.

"Pardon?" Albus questioned.

"Preemptive strike," he repeated. "By speaking with you, he not only makes it clear that he is the pursuer, but that this relationship is happening on his terms after he is legally of age. Albus, he's using you as a witness. If we're ever found out and there's an outcry over us being together, he has at least one very credible source to stand up for us. It'll keep wilder accusations of me seducing him as a student to a minimum."

"Surely, you don't think that it would come to that."

"Headmaster," Severus said, his exhaustion now coating his voice. "Even for the likes of Harry Potter, you know same sex relationships are highly frowned upon." The wizarding world, for all it's magic and splendid possibilities, was rigid and repressed. Such was the nature of a society that hid itself in the shadows of a larger one; the nature of a society that was obsessed with lineage and the purity of blood.

Albus merely looked at him, his expression a little sad. "If you haven't noticed yet, Severus, Harry follows his heart. And if his heart says his place is by you, he'll be there, no matter what anyone tells him – even you."

Severus stared at his second sandwich, slowly absorbing those words, trying to feel them, to believe them deep inside. "I just don't understand what he sees …" he trailed off, mentally adding the last words: in me.

"Severus, may I be blunt?"

He looked up, an eyebrow arching.

"If there is one major flaw that you have, it's that you try to reason everything out. There is no reason to love. Have a little faith in Harry … and in yourself."

Severus blinked, then slowly nodded, feeling quite like a student again. "Yes, Headmaster," he said, and finished his meal in thoughtful silence.

* * *

He was awoken by the flap of wings and the inquiring hooting of a delivery owl. Ignoring the owl, Severus rolled over and squinted at his clock, which helpfully informed him that it was near dawn. He groaned. His small nap after lunch had turned into an eighteen hour crash and burn. It was Tuesday morning.

The owl hooted impatiently and flapped it's wings, trying to get his attention. Severus looked at it, then sighed, recognizing one of Lucas's owls.

"What's that bastard doing up at this time of the morning?" he moaned.

The owl ruffled its feathers, looking like it quite agreed with him. Then with another small hoot, it ducked its head and nibbled at the small pouch tied to one leg.

"Patience," Severus said. He rolled out of bed, only pausing long enough to indulge in a good stretch. Then, naked and barefoot, he went to see what Lucas wanted. As soon as the pouch was untied, it began to expand. Severus quickly set it on his desk and stepped back. He never made assumptions about the things Lucas sent him. Most of them were fairly harmless, but every once in a while some new experiment wouldn't handle the travel well and it would quite literally blow up in his face. The owl must have been thinking the same thing as it quickly took flight and landed in Severus's window where it could make an easy escape if it had too.

The pouch finally quit expanding, a small scroll sticking out of the top. Severus carefully plucked it out and unrolled it, revealing Lucas's lazy penmanship. It read, 'You're right, I never would have finished it. Besides, I need my table back. I know your better half worked on it, see if he would like to have it. L.'

Better half? Severus snorted in amusement. Better half indeed. He tugged on the strings and opened the pouch, revealing thousands of puzzle pieces and a miniaturized box that the puzzle had originally been sold in. The box would probably expand to its original size once it was pulled out of the pouch.

He shook his head and set the pouch aside. The owl, having finally decided that it was safe, flew down from the window and landed on the back of his chair. It stared at him for a moment then set about grooming its feathers, obviously deciding to stay for the day.

"I can't blame you," Severus said to it. "I'd avoid delivering Lucas's mail too."

The owl hooted agreement. Severus watched it awhile longer, then decided to get moving. He had classes to teach, students to terrorize, and another Dark Lord to conquer. He snorted. Just another typical day in the life of Severus Snape.

* * *

It wasn't until his last class of the day that Severus realized that Granger wasn't the only student acting severely out of character. He was in the midst of handing out graded assignments to seventh year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws when he handed Mr. Gregory Sanders his third F. He stared at the boy for a moment as he realized there was something wrong with this entire situation. Sanders was brilliant at potions, in fact, Severus had written several recommendations for the boy to apprentice with some of the greatest potion masters in the country. So why on earth was he receiving F's?

"Mr. Sanders, stay after class."

The Ravenclaw stared at him blankly, then slowly nodded his head.

* * *

After the last student fled his class, Severus turned his attention to Sanders. The boy approached his desk slowly, his steps almost uncoordinated. He was as tense as a wire, yet looked like he was about ready to drop. There were bags under his eyes, and his general appearance was shabby, like he didn't have the energy to bother cleaning up.

Severus pointed to a nearby chair. "Sit down before you fall down."

The boy flopped down in the chair with a ragged sigh. "Professor?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Let's be blunt. Your grades have plummeted dramatically and I want to know why."

Sanders gave him that blank look again, like he was repeating Severus's words in his head while he tried to understand them. He blinked several times and even shook his head before he finally said, "Can't focus."

Severus arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'you can't focus?"

"Things not making sense; I can't sleep."

Severus studied him for a moment. The boy seemed to be sincere in his explanation. "Sanders, when was the last time you had a good night's sleep?"

The Ravenclaw had to think about this for a couple of seconds. "Four weeks?" he asked, like he wasn't sure of the answer himself. "I've gone to Madame Pomfrey. She keeps saying it's stress and gives me sleeping potions, but they're not working very well."

Severus could hardly believe this. No wonder Sanders was flunking, he was suffering from sleep deprivation.

"Get up, Sanders. We're going to the infirmary."

* * *

"Severus," Madame Pomfrey demanded after she had finally attended to Sanders and led Severus into her office, "What is going on in this school?"

Severus snorted, his sour humor rearing its head. "Don't you mean, 'what's not going on in this school'?"

She glared at him. "I had to sedate that boy with a muggle sedative, Severus! He didn't respond to the standard sleep potions, and the spells lasted a few minutes at most. I've never seen anything like this. Whatever is affecting him has to be incredibly potent to overpower standard magical medicine!"

"Don't you think I know that?" he snapped. Many potions were firmly rooted in the medical sciences; he didn't need Pomfrey to tell him the basics of his own profession.

She pulled back, momentarily startled before her expression turned contrite. She rubbed a tired hand over her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to vent at you. It's just that after the poisoning of the students, I began a search through my records to see if there was some indication that one of the students might have done this."

"Did you find anything?"

Pomfrey shook her head. "Nothing definitive. However, I did realize that several of my patients have been repeat patients with some disturbing and unusual problems. Mr. Sanders has been here seven times complaining of an inability to sleep, yet he has no physical, emotional, or mental trauma that would cause such a problem. I've had three other students with various types of extreme paranoia, one with severe chronic pain, two with different types of extreme anxiety and one who seems to have severe attacks of rage along with a desire to cause harm to those near her."

Severus's eyes narrowed. "The last student is Miss Granger, is it not?"

Pomfrey blinked. "Why, yes. How did you know?"

"Her sudden development of a temper has been brought to my attention by some concerned students."

Pomfrey sighed. "Severus, this is beyond my knowledge. I've been treating the symptoms in all of them, but like Mr. Sanders, my treatments are becoming ineffective. All of them were happy, healthy, and intelligent students; none of them should have these illnesses. I can't pinpoint what's causing this, and until I know the cause, I won't be able to effectively treat any of them. The only possible cause I've run across is this," she said, holding up her own hand and showing the dark mark on it. "Yet, they're the only ones who have been having problems."

"Unless they are simply the first ones to display problems, and the rest of us are merely a matter of time." Severus thought for a few seconds. "Poppy, when did you start treating them?"

She frowned. "I'm not sure. Let me check," she said and retreated to her filing cabinets where she began pulling out students medical records and searching through them.

"Here," she said finally. "The first one I saw was actually Mr. Sanders, a week after we came back from the winter holidays."

Christmas, when Voldemort finally had the grace to drop dead. Maybe this mess wasn't as separate as he had hoped it was.

* * *

"Severus, I swear, if you don't leave that portrait alone, I'll turn you into a puppy and give you to Hagrid."

Ah, threats from McGonagall. The day was looking up. He turned away from the portrait of a Gryffindor hero he'd been terrorizing and honed in on more entertaining prey. There was nothing else to do while they waited for Dumbledore to show up.

"What's the matter Minerva? Miss your daily dose of catnip?"

Flitwick and Sprout, who were also waiting for the weekly Head of House meeting, shared resigned glances.

McGonagall glared at him, but was prevented from retaliating as Dumbledore arrived.

"Ah, you're all here," Dumbledore said as he took his seat behind his desk. "Good, good."

The next few minutes were spent in filling the other Heads of House in on the latest problem with the students.

"You don't think this has to do with the poisoning of the students?" Flitwick asked Dumbledore.

The Headmaster sighed. "At the moment, I'm not sure what to think. I've had Madame Pomprephy quarantine all the effected students in the infirmary."

Severus could imagine how well that went over, especially with one particular student.

"Granger?" he asked.

Dumbledore winced. "She had to be sedated."

"With a horse tranquilizer, no doubt."

"Severus!" McGonagall scolded. Dumbledore merely shot him a warning glance.

Severus didn't bother apologizing; this group would know he wasn't sincere. "We can't keep them caged up and drugged forever."

"No, we can't," Dumbledore said simply. "But at the moment, we must." He turned to Flitwick and Sprout. "I am authorizing both of you to search the quarantined students' belongings. See if you can find anything that can explain this."

Flitwick nodded while Sprout said, "Of course. We'll start immediately."

Dumbledore waited until they left then turned his attention to Severus and Minerva. "Have you made anymore progress with your research?"

Severus merely shook his head to show his own lack of progress, but Minerva had some information to share.

"I discovered that Serpent Publishing was originally started by two of Hogwarts' Founders; Salizar Slytherin and Helena Ravenclaw. They supplied the students with their school books and made copies of rare books for our library. Apparently, the business did quite well until there was a falling out between Godric Gryffindor and Salizar over some of the more dangerous magics in the students books. A few months later the business was sold and it's existence was erased from all of Hogwarts's history books. I only discovered it's origins through a diary of a student who apprenticed there."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "How intriguing. Who was the business sold to?"

Minerva shrugged. "I haven't found anything yet, and I don't think I'm likely too. For some unknown reason, the Founders wanted it hidden."

Severus shifted impatiently. While this history lesson was intriguing, he felt they were missing the obvious. "That still doesn't explain why the trademark is being used by someone as a dark Mark."

"The latest owner?" Minerva suggested.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said, as he picked up a lemon drop. It wasn't improbable. Like Ollivanders and Hogwarts, some businesses lasted for centuries in the wizarding world.

tbc

A/N: Yeah, that was a little nod to CSI. grin May not have internet access next week, so the next update may be a few days more. And many thanks for the lovely feedback!


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